My Heart in my Pocket
by 2ns
Summary: Aang is finally forced to reconcile his role as the Avatar with his growing passion for Katara. Ultimatums from Hakoda and Zuko force Aang to act, overcoming his shame and fears. The spirits are deeply invested in the union of the Avatar and act of their own accord, drawing Katara into an ancient ritual that Aang had thought was only a myth. Rated M for Ch 12 & 13 lemons. KATAANG
1. CH 1: My Heart in My Pocket

I own no part of Avatar: Fanfiction only.

My Heart in My Pocket

When he couldn't sleep, he watched her sleep. It afforded him a much craved opportunity to simply look at her without the awkwardness of her looking back-love her with his eyes in ways he couldn't negotiate with his words while she was awake. He watched as shadows and light moved across her skin: caressed her cheek, traced the arch of her brow, followed the curves of collarbone, hip, and thigh. This nocturnal observation had become routine pastime over the past seven years of diplomatic missions, and relaxed his mind, heart, body, and soul in a way that even his spiritual meditation could not achieve.

Finally, mercifully, sleep came. It would be a long day tomorrow-they would be visiting her family at the South Pole, and the visits had become increasingly tense. Before each visit, he always dreamed of the days after his defeat of Fire Lord Ozai, and after all this time, Zuko's long ago advice still haunted him

After the hard-fought victory over Ozai, Katara had returned to the Earth Kingdom with a broken Zuko to find Aang exhausted nearly to death. When he saw her leap down from Appa, relief at her safe return flooded his mind and he collapsed into her arms in a near faint. Apparently the nerve that had kept him upright for the two days it took them to return had been entirely fueled by anxiety for her safety. For three days, he woke only briefly, and each time, she was there, crouched over him, knitting broken bones and charred skin back into a whole. When finally he woke, his first impression was of the smell of her, warmth and saltwater and jasmine tea. When he opened his eyes, she was there with her face nuzzled down into the crook of his neck, her breath caressing his bare chest and her hair spread over his pillow. He closed his eyes in bliss and reveled in the warmth of her pressed to his side, the weight of her arm on her chest, and her hand resting over his heart, ensuring that it was still beating. As his eyes wandered through the half twilight that slanted through the room, he realized that they weren't alone. Katara's right arm extended across the cool smooth floor boards so that her right hand rested on the heart of her other patient, reassuring her that Zuko's heart continued to beat as well. Aang's eyes followed the lines scorch marks that could only have come from a direct attach by Azula up to his hooded eyes.

"You're a lucky man, Avatar." Aang flicked his eyes up to meet Zuko's golden gaze. "She hasn't left your side for three days and won't allow anyone else to touch you. Uncle finally had to force her to drink a special tea to make her sleep."

Aang carefully turned the arm that Katara had snuggled into to slide his hand up over her hip to her waist. A small flame of jealousy flickered in his chest when he saw her hand stretched out to Zuko's heart as well, and part of him needed to remind Zuko that she was his. Although he had been careful not to disturb her, she shifted in her sleep, sliding her thigh over his and burrowing closer to him. For a moment, the room tilted. Rising pleasure and warmth caused by her nearness and the intimacy of her body pressed against his contrasted with the deep aches of his flesh . . . it was almost more than he could process all at once. Aang sighed deeply with equal measures of pain, exhaustion, and contentment.

"I know . . . I can't bear to be away from her, but I know that is what will happen more and more now. I can't figure out a way to balance the demands of being Avatar with the weight of her in my heart. It's not fair to expect her to follow me while I sort out the mess that is left of our world, but I don't think I can go on without her. She's the only thing that keeps me going-she's what I fight for."

"Does she know that?"

Aang considered the question while he tried to flex shoulders cramped from days in the same position on the floor. "Before I left, I tried to tell her-I told her that I loved her, but it was a disaster. I can't bear to lose her . . . the thought of not having her by my side every day makes my stomach turn. Air Nomads are very particular about their mates-marriage is considered an eternal joining of souls that will continue into the next life. Many of our people never married because they never found their twin soul-the one that completed them. Once we fall in love with someone, it is spiritual and absolute-we don't move on. In the next life, we will seek out our twin soul again-maybe that's why none of the Air Nomad Avatars ever married-it was too much of a selfish attachment. I'd rather watch her start a life with someone else and be able to keep her close than to risk losing my twin soul because she didn't feel the same way I do in this life."

"How can you say that? How can that not be killing you right now to even consider it? When I joined your group, she threatened to kill me should anything happen to you, and I have no doubt that nothing would have stopped her. Not even Azula could have stood in her way if she was trying to reach you. I know that she loves you."

"I had hoped so . . . but I'm not sure that she knows it, and that's what really matters."

Their whispers had woken their healer, and Katara took a deep breath as she stretched, unconsciously pressing even deeper against Aang. His stomach swooped, and he involuntarily pulled her tight against him and squeezed her waist. Katara went rigid and sat bolt upright.

"You're awake!" She pressed her hands to his face and delivered a hard but chaste kiss, and he could feel the wetness of her tears on his own cheeks. A snort from Zuko reminded her of her other patient. "You're both awake!"

"No kiss for me?" Katara blushed and rolled her eyes at Zuko.

Katara sat back on her heels and Aang was able to take her fully in. Her eyes were smudged with exhaustion; gashes and burns were tattooed across her skin as well, reminders of the battle with Azula. Aang couldn't stop himself-he reached up and gently stroked a particularly deep cut that ran from her brow to her jaw. His voice rasped, "What has she done to you? Are you alright?"

Katara cradled his hand against her cheek. "I'm fine thanks to this idiot." She cast an exasperated but affectionate scowl at Zuko. "He took the lightning bolt meant for me full on-that's why it took us so long to get back from the Fire Nation. I was sure I was going to lose him on the way, so we had to stop every few hours so I could continue trying to repair the damage. For a while after I arrived, I was sure I was going to lose you both." Katara stood up and busied herself with tea and bandages and ointments so they couldn't see the tears that had started to flow.

"Then he has my eternal gratitude, and I will be always in his debt."

Zuko's eyes snapped back to Aang. He quietly answered, "I think that liberating the Fire Nation from my father, ending 100 years of war and bloodshed, and helping restore balance to the world more than compensates. If you want to settle our debt, take care of her-make her happy," Zuko nodded at Katara's trembling back. "If you hadn't sent her with me, Azula would have slaughtered me. You need to tell her-you need to make her understand or it will destroy you both." Zuko rose silently and padded from the room on bare feet.

Aang slowly rose, careful to not disturb the dressings that supported broken ribs and raw burns. He stiffly moved across the room to lace his arms around Katara's waist and rest his head against the back of her shoulder. He tried to dismiss the way she stiffened at his touch. He pressed his eyes shut and implored the spirits to give him the strength to accept how she felt for him. Aang tightened this arms around her waist and took a deep breath of her scent before he tried to speak.

"Don't cry, Katara, it's over."

A deep, shuddering breath wracked her frame as she tried to bring her tears under control. Another deep breath, and she allowed herself to melt back into him, tipping her head to rest against his. "I know, but there's still so much more to do. When you collapsed, I was sure you were dead-I've been holding my breath ever since." After a pause, she asked, "What will you do now?"

"What I must." Aang shifted their weight into one of his hips to draw her imperceptibly closer. "There are years of diplomacy ahead of me to create balance in the world-I will never be free from my responsibilities as Avatar." Through a long pause, he slid a hand up her bare arm and smoothed a strand of loose hair behind her ear. Afraid to hear her answer, he softly asked, "What will you do now?"

Surprised, she turned in his arms to face him, eyes flashing in defiance. "What I must. When I drug you out of the crystal caverns of Ba Sing Se, I was frantic-I would have freely given my soul to the spirits if it would have restarted your heart and opened your eyes. When you sent me away to the Fire Nation with Zuko-Zuko!-I thought every moment of turning back. I was terrified of leaving you alone to face Ozai by yourself."

Becoming frustrated, Aang's voice rose. "But I couldn't have fought Ozai and protected you at the same time-I had to do it alone! I thought you would be safer with Zu-"

"I know!" She broke through his arms and started pacing the floor, her voice rising with anger. "And all the time I struggled to heal Zuko and keep him alive, I hated myself for not being here to heal you-who was going to take care of you while I tended to Zuko!"

"But without Zuko, the Fire Nat-" Katara cut him off with an exasperated snort and a roll of the eyes.

"I think we've all worried about the well-being of the fire nation quite enough. They can be rebuilt-who's going to rebuild me if I lose you!"

Brought up short, Aang's heart threatened to beat a hole through his chest. "What do you mean?"

"Years of diplomacy-it will never end! How often have we tried diplomacy and ended up running for our lives with one person or another shooting fire or lightning at us?"

An icy weight dropped into the bottom of Aang's stomach and he sagged against the wall in defeat. She was done. "It's really over-you're going to leave." Aang slid to the floor and slammed his head against the wall, eyes clamped shut against the sting of tears. You're going to leave _me_ , he thought. Years spent without her loomed before him . . . what was the point? "If you were going to leave anyway, why did you bother bringing me back? You're right-it probably will never end. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for my cowardice, trying to piece back together a world that fell apart because I failed to save it from Sozin. You should go home to your family-this will never end for me. There is more destruction than I can fix in a single lifetime-I'll be dealing with this for every lifetime for all of eternity!" Bitter tears escaped from his lashes as he struggled to accept the finality of it-she couldn't bear to go on like this, and why should she? For him?

The floor boards creaked as she paced back to him, and she blocked the waning light from the windows as her shadow fell over him. "Aang . . . Aang, look at me." He gasped in a deep breath and tried to calm himself. This is why he couldn't unlock that final chakra-he was too weak to let her go. This is why the monks had tried to hard to teach him detachment-to ensure that he would be able to continue on and place the needs of the people he must serve before his own desires. Aang raised his eyes to meet hers. "That's not what I meant at all." Katara kneeled on the floor next to Aang and laid her hand over his heart.

"What do you mean?"

"I meant that if I lose you, there will be nothing left for me. When we are separated, all I can think about is how I can get back to you. When I know you are heading into battle alone, I can't breathe! No-this won't ever end-not in this lifetime! I realized all the way back in the South Pole, and confirmed it in Ba Sing Se, and thought I would die from knowing it in the Fire Nation . . . if your purpose is to maintain the balance of the world by serving as the Avatar, my purpose is to be at your side!" And she kissed him again, but this time with heat and hunger and need that stole his breath and set his entire body aflame with the wanting of her and made him tremble with the rekindled hope that she would stay. He tentatively reached out and wound her fingers in her hair, still loose from sleep, and she softly moaned against his mouth.

"Are you saying that you will stay? But I thought you weren't sure how you felt about me."

"It took me some time to realize it, to understand it, to accept it, but I think I've always loved you. Since the day we pulled you from the ice, I haven't been able to let you go. I was afraid to say it out loud and make it real when there was a possibility that you wouldn't come back."

"Is it real now?"

"It has always been real."

Seven years later, it seemed that they were still always running. Only Katara had stayed by his side all this time, and he had come to rely on her for her counsel and her ability to find the humanity in the chaos around them as they sped from crisis to crisis. While he knew that she loved him, after all this time, still she was not his wife. At night, while they talked at the fire, she snuggled into his arms and he lived for the nights when she fell asleep there. They found comfort in one another's embrace, and she welcomed his kisses, but still she was not his wife. So he spent his days relying on her wisdom and support, his evenings in winning her smile and making her laugh, and his nights aching for her while the moonlight touched her when he dared not to. As the world around them settled into an orderly rhythm, he found himself in ever-increasing turmoil.

Every time they returned to the South Pole, Aang was greeted with her father's bitter disapproval. This time, Katara's father confronted the two of them with two fistfuls of betrothal offers for Katara. She was sought after by families from the Southern Tribe as the last southern water bender, by families of the northern tribe who admired her spirit and mastery of the element, and by families all over the world for her close association with the Avatar.

"Damn you, Aang! If you will not have her, then let her go so she can have real life!" was the accusation he had flung at Aang as Katara awkwardly gave the usual reason she could not accept a betrothal: her work with Aang was not yet done. In silence, Aang had straightened his back, shouldered his bag, and walked out of the hut towards Appa. For all these years, he had carried in his pocket the betrothal necklace he had made from a strip of ancient Air Nomad silk and a pendant he had bent from a chunk of the same meteorite as Sokka's sword once he had mastered metal bending. Never had the moment been right enough-always someone else's need, someone else's crisis had pushed back his own betrothal offer. Every day, his fingers smoothed the ancient silk; the meteorite metal was polished to a high shine from years of being turned over in his fingers.

Moments later, he heard the snow crunch beneath Katara's feet as she raced to catch up with him. His strides had become longer over time, and he now stood a few inches taller than her-she now had to run to keep up with him. His heart ached, and he refused to slow his pace. In frustration, Katara jabbed at the snow, and a plinth of ice rose up before Aang, nearly slamming into his face.

"Stop!" Fuming, Aang stood stubbornly in place, his nose nearly brushing the ice and tingling as it seemed to radiate cold. When she reached him, she grabbed the fur sleeve of his parka and whirled him around. "You know that's not how I feel."

In shame, Aang dropped his gaze and toed the chunks of snow their passage had kicked up. "Is that what you want? Do you want to settle down and start a family, because you know I can't-"

"I know. I would never ask you to shirk your responsibilities!"

"But is that what you want!" Aang roared in frustration. He could see villagers from the corner of his eye stop and stare at the two of them. He suspected that it had become idle talk in the village that while the Avatar would not take Katara for his wife, neither would he permit her to take a husband. It was becoming a bit of a scandal after all these years, and he knew that the whispers and the sly sneers of her people also suggested that her virtue was beyond repair in their eyes as well.

Katara reached out and placed a gloved hand on his sleeve. "All I have ever wanted was to be with you-and that's where I will always stay." After a few moments of tense silence, broken only by the arctic wind, Katara asked, "What do you want Aang? No one ever really asks you what you want, do they?"

" _I_ want to shirk my responsibilities! _I_ want a home and a family! _I_ want my beautiful wife in my bed! But I'll be damned if I can see a way to _have_ it!" Aang rounded on his heel and crashed face first into the plinth of ice. Roaring in frustration, he sent a blast of flame that melted it in an instant, and he continued his march toward the air bison.

Far behind him, the wind nearly stole her words as Katara softly asked, "Do you want to marry me?"

Aang dropped his pack in the snow at Appa's feet and bent a wave of ice, riding it back to Katara's side in an instant. He gathered her into his arms and lifted her off her feet into a bruising kiss. "Yes, I want you! I've wanted you since the first time I opened my eyes and saw you! But how can I have you when I have no home to offer you and nothing before me but an endless string of obligations? How can I explain to your father that I want nothing more than to give you everything he wants for you, but not the means to do it? How can I tell the chief of your tribe that I'm the most powerful man on the planet, but the thought of letting you start a life with someone else makes me want to lay down at his feet and die? How can I tell your family that I dread every time we come to visit because this might be the time you decide to stay? How can I look your father in the eye when he has offer after offer for your hand when I've been carrying my betrothal offer in my pocket for seven years? And how can you possibly not know that?" He pressed her to him, panting in suppressed rage and frustration, and kissed her harder this time, both hungry for her and daring her to refuse him. She responded eagerly, wrapping both arms around his neck and deepening the kiss. He tore her away, and holding her by both arms, demanded, "How can you not know how much I love you? After all this time, how do you honestly not know? How can _they_ not see it?"

Aang turned on his heel and strode back to Appa, fully intending to leave her in the snow. How could she not know how he burned for her? How he ached to touch her every night? How much he loathed himself for being the Avatar-for not being a man that could provide a home for her? The shame that burned inside him when he heard the whispers that extended far beyond the Southern Water Tribe. He wasn't a child anymore-of course he wanted her!

Katara stood rooted in the swirling snow, watching his retreating back in shock. The tundra was very wide and very empty, swept white by the blistering cold, and the stares boring into her back were very hot. There was not a single doubt in her mind that every word Aang had flung at her had traveled through the crystalline air on the wind to every ear in the village. Aside from the shame that was sliding down her back in beads of cold sweat, she was shocked at the magnitude of Aang's rage. It was so rare that her sweet-tempered, peace-loving, attentive air bender lost his temper at all, little lone indulged in a standing rage in full public view, and on her behalf, no less. Through her own shock and anger, she realized that she rather liked it, this outburst of passion from Aang. Bending her own wave of ice, she sped ahead of him and whipped into his path.

"Which pocket?" she demanded.

"What?"

"Which pocket have you carried it in for seven years-I want to know!"

This brought him up short. With extreme difficulty, he straightened his back and clenched and unclenched his hands, clearly stalling as he decided what to do. Closing his eyes and struggling to slow his breath, he reached into his parka to the pocket next to his ribs that laid hidden under the capuce of his air nomad robes. She heard the delicate fabric tear as he fumbled in his fur-lined gloves to extract the necklace. In frustration, he ripped off the gloves and tried again.

When his hand reemerged, it held a delicate band of saffron silk with a carefully wrought pendant. With his empty hand, he created a filigree of ice beneath the betrothal necklace and then carefully bent the air to carry it to her. Holding his uncertain gaze, she reached out and lifted the necklace from the shimmering ice. She knew that the saffron silk was precious to him, taken from the robes he wore when he fled the air temple. It was an artifact of his childhood, woven by hands long dead in a temple long silent and cold. Intricately bent into the pendant were the symbols for all four nations-truly, a gift that was carefully planned to honor the traditions of both her people and his, but which would leave no doubt at all as to whom it had come from. A lovingly, painstakingly created statement that would declare that she belonged to him-that she was the beloved wife of the Avatar.

"This is exceptionally beautiful-why have you kept this from me? Why would you carry this in your pocket for all these years and never ask me?"

Aang dropped his gaze to the snow again, low enough that she could see much of the arrow tattoo that crested his head beneath the hood of his parka. His anger was spent, and his answer was so quiet, she barely heard it. "Because of everything I just told you. Just like any other Air Nomad, I have no home besides the ground beneath my feet. I have nothing to offer you, no bed to lay you in, no cradle to lay our children in. My life is traveling from crisis to crisis, tending to the needs of others to the point that I must neglect your needs and the desires of my own heart. I am ashamed of my own selfishness, that I cannot let you go, even when I know there must be a better life for you here in your tribe. I am ashamed that I have needed you with me, even when strangers whisper and assume I have taken your virtue and honor. I have no family and no name to give you you-you and Sokka and Toph, and even Zuko, who tried so ardently to destroy me, are the only family I have had for so long. And I am ashamed to have the power of the Avatar, and still be so completely crippled by the thought that you would say no that I have never been able to summon the courage to ask you."

Frozen in place, Aang was unable to meet her eyes. The wind was picking up, and it carried crystals of ice that scraped their skin raw like sand, so he squeezed his eyes closed in agony and self-loathing and he waited. He did not hear her move, but he felt soft, warm hands under the hood of his parka find the back of his neck, and she pulled his face to hers so that their hoods met and formed a warm, dark shield from the mounting storm around them.

"Do you want to marry me?"

Exasperated Aang glared at Katara and hissed, "Yes! Isn't that what . . . I just told you why I can't . . ." Katara gently pulled her hands from behind his neck, trailing fingertips across his cheeks to the edge of her own hood, and pulling back the collar of her parka, revealed his betrothal necklace already hanging around her throat. He reached out one tentative finger and stroked the saffron silk and the heavy pendant already warm from her body.

"I have often dreamed of seeing that around your neck-sometimes when you didn't know I was looking at you, I would try to imagine what it would look like there. I could never believe that you would truly consent to being my wife, so for all these years, it has been nothing more than a dream. To have you at my side has been the one thing I have ever wanted for myself from the moment you woke me from the ice, and it has always seemed the one thing I never had the right to ask of you. There is nothing that would bring me greater joy and peace than if you would be my wife."

"In my heart, I already am." After a soft kiss, Katara narrowed her eyes. "But before we go, I have a few choice words for my father." And before he could stop her, she was bending a wave of ice at breakneck speed back to the village.

Surprised and speechless, Aang absently scratched the ear of the patiently waiting air bison. "Ah . . . I think we'll wait here."


	2. CH 2: Before the Council

I do not own any part of Avatar: Fanfiction only.

Thanks for the lovely reviews!

Before the Council

Aang watched Katara's retreating back for a few moments in a soft pink glow of dumbfounded euphoria. He knew that she was headed straight for the center of the village where her father would be sitting in council . . . _oh, spirits, I've got to stop her!_

Aang lept up to Appa's saddle, grabbed his staff and snapped out the gliding wings. If Katara confronted Chief Hakoda _in front of the council_ , it could be disastrous. Hakoda would likely also be offended that Aang did not ask permission before his proposal. Where was Sokka when you needed him? Enjoying the company of _his_ wife on Kyoshi, no doubt! There was no chance he could stop Katara before she reached the Council Hall if he followed the same path. Aang gritted his teeth together and squinted through the needles of ice the wind had started to hurl. At least the mounting storm provided additional thrust to his bending. She was going to beat him . . . Ice was collecting on the delicate silk and bamboo struts of the glider—he didn't dare take a hand away from the glider to bend the ice to divert her path.

Concentrating hard, he took a deep slow breath . . . and sent a jet of flame directly through Katara's wave of ice. Iroh and Zuko weren't the only fire benders that could dance with dragons and breathe fire! As though from a very great distance, Aang could hear the gasps (and could that be applause?) from the villagers below. Katara tumbled from the 8-foot high crest of ice into what was now a slushy puddle that spanned the entire width of the street. Aang's breath caught as he saw her slam into the icy water—the force of her fall splashed water high up the wall of the shops lining the streets and left several bystanders drenched. Katara's head snapped and found his glider at once. Catching his eye, even from this height he could see her glittering eyes narrow. _Spirits, she's mad_ . . . he was going to pay for that, probably sooner than later.

Finally arriving at the council hall, Aang could see that the council doors were shut, but a very angry Katara was likely close on his heels. Taking another deep breath, he sent a gust of wind to blast open the doors of the council, allowing him to glide directly into the hall. Amidst gasps of surprise and shouts of protest, Aang dropped to his feet and spun the glider to snap it closed behind his back. Crystals of ice spun off in all directions from the frozen glider and clattered amongst the councilmen. The force of his flight still propelling him forward, he gracefully dropped to a low crouch with head bowed and bent a low sheet of ice before him. As he slid, he could hear exclamations of surprise as council members and tribesmen jumped out of his way—he was not going to be deterred by manners and decorum today. The force of his momentum allowed him to glide swiftly up the long aisle to the Hakoda's dais and stop neatly before him.

When Aang reached the front of the council hall, he waited silently, trying to calm his mind and his breath. Aang himself had built the council hall with Pakku as a gift to the Southern Water tribe after Pakku's wedding to Kanna. It was a marvel of bending, with a vaulted ceiling that rose several stories into the sky and was supported by struts of the black stone that laid buried under the ice of the South Pole. He had drawn sand from beneath the snow outside the village and bent it with flame into the only glass windows in all of the South. The result was a dramatic riot of swirling colors that filtered through the crisp air. Fireplaces set at intervals around along the longest walls added to the shimmering light and made the council hall the warmest place in the village. The light fell softly on the Avatar's long neck and wrapped over his head, dancing over his tattoo as he struggled to bring his breathing under control.

After a few long moments of stunned silence, one of Hakoda's aids pointedly cleared his throat and announced, "I believe the Avatar wishes to be recognized by the council." A snort of derision far down the aisle behind him and the squelching of wet fur boots indicated Katara had arrived.

Aang rose solemnly, careful to keep his head bowed, with hands clasped palm to palm before his chest in the traditional air bender form for respect. Bringing his left foot up to the right, he sharply stamped the ice at his feet, sending a blast of heated air back to Katara that should substantially dry her sopping clothes and hair. Aang couldn't completely suppress the smile that tried to break out as the gust was met with a grunt of mingled annoyance and surprise.

"Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe, honored council, people of the Southern Water Tribe . . . I thank you for hearing me in council today."

Aang could just hear Pakku mutter in a mixture of disapproval and amusement, "As if we had a choice!"

"I have come to formally pledge my troth to Sifu Katara, daughter of Chief Hakoda, and humbly ask his permission for us to wed."

"Humbly?" Pakku muttered.

Aang could hear Hakoda lean forward in his chair with interest. "It is always an honored day when the Avatar brings his wisdom to the Southern Water Tribe." Another huff from Pakku. "While it would be truly an honor to welcome the young Avatar into our family and tribe, Katara has turned down over 200 offers for her hand. Perhaps she does not wish to wed . . . "

Katara gasped behind Aang. "Now wait just . . ."

"The council does not acknowledge Sifu Katara!" Pakku exclaimed, red-faced. Apparently his flexibility with council decorum had been thoroughly exhausted. "She will wait to speak until she is acknowledged by the council or be escorted from the council hall!"

Now it was Katara's turn to huff. Although he could not see her, in his mind's eye, he could see her with arms crossed and belligerently glaring at her father, her sifu, and the rest of the council elders through slitted eyes, vibrating with anger and suppressed power. They should all count themselves lucky that the moon was waning and not full. This was perhaps not going as well as he had hoped.

Hakoda continued, "Why do you believe that she would have any intention of marrying _you_?"

Aang hadn't really expected to be questioned—perhaps this was how all betrothals went? He considered Hakoda and Pakku friends! He could feel the heat of blood creeping up his neck into his face as he flushed and sweat starting to bead on his brow and crawl down his spine. _I'm such an idiot! This is hard enough without doing it in the middle of the council chamber with all the tribe watching!_ As the minutes stretched on, it was clear that the entire tribe really was present. He could hear the creak of feet on ice and whispers as the rest of the tribe trickled into the hall through the doors he had thrown wide open. Internally, Aang groaned.

"I . . ." Aang's voice caught and he cleared his voice with difficulty. "I can only hope that she would accept my offer. It is true that I have no material wealth, and the only home I can claim are the ancient air temples that have been silent for a century. There is very little stability in my life, as the demands of my position require that I must constantly be on the move, tending to the needs of the four nations. I can only offer Sifu Katara a life spent in service." Aang's head hung lower, and his shoulders dropped a little. Truly, the situation sounded less and less inviting, the more he said—maybe _this_ is why none of the Air Nomad avatars married. "Katara . . ." Aang looked up at Hakoda and met hard blue eyes in a closed face—Hakoda was not convinced. Aang licked suddenly dry lips and took a shuddering breath before continuing. This _really_ wasn't working. He decided to try a different approach. "Sifu Katara has been by my side since we were children, and without her strength, wisdom, and courage, I could never have become the Avatar . . . she deserves as much credit for the defeat of Fire Lord Ozai as I do." The pitch of the murmurs around him changed—he seemed to have their attention now. "I rely on her counsel—"

"So you ask for her hand to formalize an official capacity as counsel to the Avatar?" Hakoda harshly cut across him.

"No, wait, that's not what I meant!" Aang glanced over his shoulder at Katara, where she stood with hands clasped to her heart, but with brows drawn down. Surely she wouldn't doubt him now? He could hear the furs of the assembled tribesmen rustle as murmurs of disapproval rumbled around the hall. Aang reached out and took one of her trembling hands and pulled her close to him. This was already a disaster— _what had he been thinking!_ He might as well throw convention out the window all together.

"What _do_ you mean? Be plain." Sifu Pakku demanded.

Aang slowly reached out with the other hand, catching a tear that had slipped down Katara's cheek with the back of his fingers. Gently grasping the back of her neck, Aang pulled her closer to him. "I'm sorry," he whispered to her, and she dropped her head into his shoulder and pulled him close. He couldn't imagine a proposal going worse—surely Hakoda was going to deny his troth and Aang and Katara would be shamed in front of the entire council.

"I mean that I love her. I have loved her from the first moment I saw her when she freed me from the ice; I have loved her my entire life. She is what I fight for and what brings me back from every battle." Aang regarded the council and Hakoda defiantly. "I will still love her even after you have denied my troth, and hope that she will continue to stay with me, even if I can never be her husband. You can be assured I will always care for her first and that her virtue will always be maintained, so that when the day comes that she chooses to accept a proposal," Aang's voice quavered at voicing his long-held fear aloud, "she can go to her husband with honor." Katara clung to Aang with her face pressed into the fur of his parka to stifle her sobs. This wasn't how this was supposed to happen!

Hakoda had heard enough, and he sat back in his chair. He looked up regarding the vast height of the council hall, slowly taking in the sweep of the struts that reached far above his head into near darkness. He looked around at his tribe, packed cheek by jowl around him, and noticed several of the younger girls sighing and the women wiping away tears.

"This is a very beautiful hall, Avatar Aang. It is a work of art created by a master out of love for our people, and it will stand as an eternal testament throughout the centuries of your deep connection to the people you faithfully serve. When the arctic storms are bad enough to make even homes of ice tremble and crack, we now take refuge in this place, and it has become the place we meet in times of both fear and joy." Turning back to Aang, he continued, "A man that can create something of such delicate beauty and enduring strength through the power of his will and the bare earth will never find difficulty providing for his family. I have never worried that you could provide for Katara's needs, that you would protect her until you last breath, or that there was ever anything but honor between you. I only wanted to be assured that she stayed with the Avatar out of love for Aang, rather than a sense of duty and obligation to the Avatar. What say you Sifu Katara? Do you love the Avatar Aang?"

Katara raised streaming eyes to look at Aang, and his heart seemed to both squeeze tight into a knot in his chest and expand to fill his ribs to bursting. "I have always loved Aang. I know that every proposal offer I have received cut him to the core, and it has greatest fear that I would leave him. All this time, I have only been waiting for him to ask. I would be very grateful if you would grant us permission to marry."

"As your father, I give my blessing to your union. However," Hakoda paused with a wicked smile, and Katara and Aang snapped their eyes to him in surprise at his change of tone, "as the Avatar has seen fit to bring your betrothal to the council itself for approval," Aang squeezed his eyes shut in agony. _Such an idiot!_ " _they too_ must approve his proposal. All those in favor of Avatar Aang's betrothal to Sifu Katara, say aye . . ." To Aang's profound relief, a resounding, "Aye!" echoed through the hall. Clearly, the entire tribe felt entitled to have a vote. ". . . those opposed?" A surprising number of loud, disgruntled "Nay!"s responded, and Aang smugly guessed from the entirely male chorus that most of those were the voices of Katara's other proposed suitors. Aang met Katara's eyes with a wicked smile and thought, _Mine!_

Sifu Pakku stepped forward to the front of the dais and crossed his arms, but was unable to hide a lopsided smirk. "By clear majority vote, Avatar Aang's proposal before the Council of the Southern Water Tribe is hereby approved." Pakku held out his hands to calm the roar of cheers that went up around the hall. "But be warned, young Avatar, that if you wish to come before the council and propose another resolution, you will need to follow the proper protocol. Be so kind to close the doors on your way out so we can get some _real_ business done!"


	3. CH 3: Dreaming of Home

I own no part of Avatar: Fanfiction Only

Thank you so much for continuing to proofread and sending me the lovely reviews—they are deeply appreciated!

Dreaming of Home

Katara leaned over the front edge of Appa's saddle, watching Aang as he steered them towards trade negotiations in the central Earth Nation. Although he must have been tired, he seemed to sit a bit straighter since leaving the South Pole. The betrothal seemed to have lifted a weight from him that she only now realized had been becoming heavier over the years. Although she was still giddy from the betrothal, she was grateful to return to their regular routine.

Peace had settled into their world far faster than Aang had ever imagined, largely due to the generous voluntary reparations made by Fire Lord Zuko. Katara was grateful that most of Aang's meetings now centered on trade negotiations, water and grazing rights, and border disputes that could be settled over tea rather than with a fight to the death. Once they arrived at the location of a dispute, Aang would often spend 10 or more hours in meetings and spend several hours afterwards reading scrolls of contracts, treaties, and evidence before calling it a day. At the end of these days, he could barely see the characters on the parchment before him and was plagued by a throbbing headache from listening to people shout what usually turned out to be generations of passed down complaints and grievances.

Aang wasn't exaggerating when tried to tell the council that her advice was crucial to performing his duties, and she was touched that he appreciated her enough to give it as evidence for the validity of his troth. Depending upon the nature of their mission, she sometimes would attend the meetings with him if she had special knowledge or insight that would be helpful. More often, she had a more important task that she enjoyed _much_ more.

She visited with the people of the villages they went to, healing the sick, and just generally watching. They had found that while Aang may get the "official" complaints in his formal meetings, Katara usually learned the root causes of the problems he was asked to solve by talking to the women of the villages who often flocked to learn healing from "Lady" Katara.

Momo tended to be Katara's companion on these jaunts into the towns. The children couldn't resist him, and their mothers followed cautiously behind. Her days were spent chatting with local ladies while kneading bread in warm kitchens, bouncing children on her knee, and learning local handicrafts. In general, she found that the food and company was much better at her meetings that his!

"Lady" Katara . . . increasingly, that is what the people called her, and word of her own skills was often as well-known as the Avatar's. Common folk rarely cared that she was a master water bender, so she was rarely called sifu. Very few of the people she met could remember Avatar Roku, little lone what the proper title for the Avatar's wife or companion would have been. Although the whispers followed them about what exactly the nature of their relationship was, most often, folk were more interested in gossip from the other nations and the healing she brought to their families.

Katara could almost entirely be credited for their meager income. Although Aang would sometimes be given an honorary gift for his services that in actuality had little to no practical value, he was only rarely paid for his services. He certainly would never ask for payment, even when he risked life and limb to help his people. On the other hand, Katara's services were usually practical and deeply appreciated by the families she visited. She could be counted on to carry various herbs with her that, while they were plentiful where she had collected them days earlier, may be very rare and valuable in another place. These she sometimes offered in trade, but more often gave in free will to those that needed them. At the end of visits, the women rarely let her leave without pressing a loaf of bread, a cake of farmer's cheese, or a measure of homespun cloth into her hands in gratitude. By the time they met back at camp, she had almost always been gifted with enough for the two of them with plenty left over for them to share with anyone they might meet in greater need. Truly, they lived through the providence of the spirits and the generosity of those they served, though they rarely were left wanting.

Frequently, they woke to small parcels wrapped in coarse paper or dried husks left in the night by the fireside while they slept. Aang's favorites were the ones from children: a picture of him or Lady Katara, a few handmade wooden beads on a woolen cord, or a much loved raggedy doll or sacrificed out of gratitude.

The dolls in particular were dear to him—there were few toys in the monastery, and all of them had a spiritual or practical lesson attached. Katara thought that in his mind, these little dolls, with hair braided and brushed and cut by plump fingers sticky from sweets represented his idea of what a home and family must be like. The ragged dolls were dearest, as he knew those were truly sacrificed by a child that likely had few possessions of their own. These he sometimes kept as mementos of his service in a small pack of his few personal treasures in Appa's saddle.

Katara had also noticed that he often pocketed trinkets to be gifted to poor children he would meet in the next town. Somehow the children always seemed to know that the young Avatar could be counted upon to tell them a story or produce a sweet or small toy from the many hidden pockets of his robes. Though he rarely ate them himself, she would often find delicacies wrapped in rice paper and tied with twine in his pockets when she washed his robes. She knew these were meant for the small hands that would inevitably reach shyly for his as he walked conspicuously through the streets.

In the past, the nation of the Avatar would consider it a special duty to support _their_ Avatar. The Avatar brought order, wisdom, and honor to their nation. Raised as a monk, Aang's personal needs were few and simple, but she now knew he had always felt a deep shame in having little to give her, though he very rarely expressed it. He certainly had never expressed it as spectacularly as he had yesterday!

Mmmm . . . home was a concept that had become flexible to Katara. With their marriage, she knew that the Southern Water Tribe would now consider Aang _their_ Avatar, and as such when they return to the South Pole for their wedding in a month, Hakoda and Gran Gran will have ensured that there would be a home waiting for them. Of course, Aang didn't know that. There will be all kinds of remonstrations and attempts to give their gifts back or to give them to a family in need. The fact was that supporting the Avatar's family was a practical benefit to the nation—what better way to make sure that he spent more time there than anywhere else?

While travelling, Aang rarely accepted the hospitality of the town. He felt that no matter who they accepted hospitality from, it was rarely given without an eye to attempting to influence the Avatar's decisions in the host's favor. He far preferred feeling the wind on his face at night and the earth beneath his body—these were dependable, free of obligation, and truly belonged to him and his mastery. She suspected that he also needed the peace and seclusion their camp offered to retreat from the demands of the day.

Katara turned and watched the sea scurry away beneath them. She noticed a long red silk ribbon peeking out from a fold in the smooth leather of Appa's saddle. Discarded and forgotten, it was likely once tied around some trinket or other left at their camp one night. Katara rescued it and wrapped it absently around two fingers, while leaning back against the bundle she had carried away with her from Gran Gran's. She smiled at Aang's consternation.

"What's that?"

"The contents of my hope chest—Gran Gran wanted me to take it with me when I left."

"What's a hope chest?"

"Um . . . well . . ." Katara had been glad it was too dark to see her blush when they had finally been able to extract themselves from what had quickly become a raucous celebration following their very public betrothal. There was nothing for it; she was simply going to have to explain and be as vague as possible.

"It's a tradition in the Southern Water Tribe for the women of the family to put things by for their girls . . . sort of a whole lifetime of gifts to be received later."

"Really? That's really nice. What kind of gifts?"

Of course he would ask. "Well, it depends on the family, but there could be heirlooms—personal items of special value like hairsticks carved from the spines of a horned dolphin caught by a woman's father. Each one will have a story that helps the girl teach her own children about our people. Some things are traditional, like buttons carved from the shells of creatures that can only be found at the South Pole and spools of special thread made of rabbit-seal gut for stitching boots and parkas." Katara paused, not wanting to go on, but knowing that he would see soon enough what was inside. "Other things are more practical . . . the types of things she will need . . . for her first home. A girl normally opens her hope chest for the first time when she is betrothed so that . . ." Katara trailed off, seeing the light in Aangs eyes fade.

Aang drew in a long, measured breath that normally meant he was holding a strong emotion in check. His lips tightened slightly. Another reminder of a home they didn't have—could this day get any longer? "That's lovely, Katara. It looks soft—if we strap it inside the back of the saddle, you'll be able to rest your back against it while we travel."

Katara couldn't bring herself to explain that her hope chest had been bursting at the joints and this was only a very small portion of what it included. Items had been folded and stacked on top half way up Gran Gran's wall since her grandmother and aunts had had several extra years to fill it. Gran Gran had laughed as she explained that more loving work had been plied into that overflowing chest than it Katara could imagine. As the daughter of the chief and companion of the Avatar, the women of the tribe considered it a particular honor to be allowed to include something from their household in Katara's hope chest. The women took comfort and felt pride knowing that one day, their handiwork would travel to all corners of the world and remind Katara and her children that their home would always be in the South. Before they left, Gran Gran had wrapped some of the finest pieces from the chest into the pelt of a rabbit-seal and pressed it into her arms.

Appa and Aang had flown through the night, clearly anxious to put the South Pole behind them. Katara had laid resting her head on the happy memories of her tribeswomen and following the wisps of old stories in her dreams. The bundle smelled of home and the herbs that had lined the chest, so she had also dreamed of Gran Gran's hands grinding herbs into medicines. When Katara woke in the morning with Momo curled into a ball at her stomach, they had nearly reached the southern coast of the Earth Kingdom.

Katara stood and stretched, and then carefully stepped over the air bison's saddle into the thick forest of his fur. Mindful of the wind created by his flight, she made her way down his broad neck to where Aang sat on the crown of Appa's head, guiding him. Placing her hands on Aang's shoulders for balance, she sat behind him and stretched her legs out around his. Katara scooted as close to Aang as their Water Tribe parkas would allow and slid cold hands under the edge of his parka and robes to wrap them around the bare skin of his waist. Surprised but clearly very pleased, Aang turned his head and leaned to her for a soft kiss.

"Good morning."

Katara smiled. "Yes it is. Are you tired? Do you want to rest?"

Aang shook back his hood to see her more clearly and returned her smile. "I _am_ tired, but we are almost to the coast. We can stop there and rest for a while." Aang's gaze traveled from her face down to the pendant of the betrothal necklace, swinging gently in the wind, and flicked back to meet her eyes again. Uncertain of where the new boundaries of their relationship were but eager for her touch, he leaned back into her warmth and sought another kiss. Resting his forehead against hers and gently stroking her nose with his, he quietly commented, "This is new . . . I like it."

Katara hummed with satisfaction and nuzzled into his neck to hide her embarrassed pleasure at his reaction. She planted kisses along the path of his tattoo as it disappeared into his parka. Katara felt Aang's quick intake of breath as he involuntarily arched his back and shivered. "That's new too . . . do you like that as well?"

Releasing the held breath, Aang choked out, "Very much."

Katara rose, balancing on his shoulders again, and inched her way pack up Appa's neck. She'd had no idea that only the slightest increase in their intimacy would affect Aang so thoroughly. Pleased with the result, she asked, "When will we be landing?"

Taking another deep breath to attempt to calm his now racing heart, he muttered under his breath, "Not soon enough."


	4. CH 4: Incandescent

I own no part of Avatar: Fanfiction only.

This might push me over into the mature category here . . . let me know if you think I need to change the rating on the story

Incandescent

By the time they touched down, man and beast were clearly both exhausted from the night flight. They had found a heavily wooded spot next to a small mountain lake. After setting down, Aang lept down and immediately bent Aapa's saddle off before Katara could climb out. Appa nudged Aang affectionately and headed to the lake to drink.

Aang turned to Katara as she stepped over the edge of the saddle and pulled her into his arms and a hungry kiss. She'd sensed he wasn't finished when she had stepped away from him during the flight; clearly, she was right. Katara had lit a fire beneath his skin and he had urgently wanted to find a secluded place to stop. Aang's hands found their way beneath the fur parka, across her hips and back up to the small of her back, pressing her closer to him. Katara responded in kind, sliding her hands back under the edge of his shirt, across ribs, and up his back. She was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath at Aang's surprise and pleasure, and he pressed her more tightly against himself. He gently nibbled and sucked at her bottom lip until she opened her mouth for a deeper kiss while one of his hands travelled up to cradle the back of her head. He bent lower to trail kisses down her throat, finally lifting her into his arms to follow the neckline of her tunic. Her own kisses had travelled up the side of his neck to his ear.

"Aang?" She smiled at his muffled interrogatory, "Mmmmm?" "Not that I want you to stop . . ." This time he responded with a softer, lower "Mmmmm," that she felt rumble through his chest, more a growl than a word. She realized she was now panting slightly, a warm heat spreading from her core out, making even fingertips tingle. She tightened her arms around his shoulders and stroked the line of his tattoo down the back of his skull to the base of his neck. " _Really_ don't want you to stop . . ." Aang's chin had found its way between the overlapping panels of the front of her tunic, and his kisses had followed, now taking a line down the inside of one breast. An even more muffled, satisfied, "Mmmm", was made almost inaudible by the density of the sleeves of her parka, now almost enveloping his face as her trembling hands pressed his head closer. Katara stuttered, "I know you must be tired . . ."

Aang groaned and his face reemerged, taking a last deep kiss. His eyes were slightly glazed and unfocused from a combination of passion and exhaustion. "I am _so_ tired. I hadn't originally intended to fly all night; I just wanted to put as much distance as possible between the South Pole and us." He gently returned her to her feet, and clasping her hands stepped back to regard her more fully. "I wanted to think." His eyes travelled thoughtfully over her face. "I needed to decide what to do next."

"What do you mean, 'what to do next'?"

Aang ducked his head in obvious embarrassment. "Yesterday was . . . a lot. I let my frustration and anger get the best of me . . . I didn't really have a plan to propose . . ."

Katara couldn't help herself and chuckled, "Surely after all this time you had some idea?"

Aang looked up and laughed, "Noooo . . . I did . . . just not like that. It's not really what I had in mind—I don't really know what comes next."

"I'm sure it wasn't! No doubt by now, the tribe has told and retold the story enough times that our betrothal was the result of an epic bending battle that ravaged the town and left it in flames followed by you begging my father's permission to marry me on your knees. The spirits alone know what the tribe thinks started it, but by now there's likely fourty versions of that as well!" Katara pulled his face down to hers so she could look him directly in the eye. "It will be . . ." she intoned in her best imitation of Sokka's mysterious voice, "the stuff of _legends!_ "

"So . . . you're not upset?"

"I can't say that I really appreciated that you dropped me full speed from the top of a crest of ice through a sheet of flame into the middle of a street swamped a foot deep with slush and mud." Aang had the sense to look abashed and to back away as she advanced on him, warming to the topic. "And I can't say that I enjoyed the seven years worth of family meals, moon festivals, spirit festivals, weddings, and the like that were spent dodging my father's glares and making feeble excuses why I couldn't marry a very long line of otherwise perfectly acceptable young men because I was trying to wait patiently for a man who I was starting to believe had no interest in ever proposing. While, I might add," at this point she started poking him sharply in the middle of his chest for emphasis while he continued to retreat, "you sat at the other end of the table cracking jokes with Sokka and playing pai sho with Gran Gran and whatever member of the Order of the White Lotus had turned up! As though you had no idea what we were hissing about on the other side of the room. And furthermore," _Spirits, there was more? "_ furthermore, I am not impressed that after seven years of contemplating your proposal, and . . . Oh! That's another thing! There were plenty of opportunities when I thought, OK, this is it, he's finally going to do it, and you'd get all nervous and twitchy and want to be alone with me, but did you propose? NO! And then I'd be doubting you and our relationship for weeks afterwards! And now, after finally proposing, you are seriously," Aang was now pressed up against the edge of Aapa's saddle with nowhere else to go. "Seriously going to stand there," Katara whipped her hand across her body and slammed a tentacle of water from the lake into Aang's chest, knocking him sprawling into the air bison's saddle. "and tell me that now that you've got me, you don't know what to do with me?"

"That's not really what I was trying to—"

"Well, what are you trying to say?"

Aang bent a gust of air to topple Katara over the edge of the saddle into his arms. The impact of a wild bear-cat of a water bender in high durgeon into his ribs was enough to knock the wind out of both of them. After a brief but fierce tussle, her arms swirling in what he couldn't decide was an effort to keep her balance or preparation for more bending, he managed to pin her securely to his chest through superior strength alone. Katara was now nose to nose with Aang, red in the face, her hair working out of her braid, and still poised to fight the moment he released his grasp. With the morning sun captured in her hair and her skin glowing from exertion, she was incandescent.

"What I'm trying to say is," Aang risked taking one hand to brush the hair back out of her eyes, "that I have _all kinds_ of ideas about what I'd like to do with you, but I'm not sure where our boundaries are anymore. "

"Oh." Aang could feel Katara's muscles start to uncoil, so he rolled them onto their sides but kept her hands pressed securely between them, just in case another foolish comment inspired her to another bout of bending.

"I've kissed you and held you and touched more of you in the past twelve hours than in the past seven years combined." Aang was pleased to see her squirm. "I don't know anything about the marriage customs of the Southern Water Tribe." Now that she was settling, he risked freeing his top hand to stroke her face while gathering her more comfortably to him with the bottom hand. "And you know nothing about the customs of the Air Nomads." He punctuated his point with a gentle kiss.

"The air benders lived a life apart from the rest of the Air Nomads. Female and male air benders lived spiritual, secluded lives of study, fasting, and service to the spirits and their people. I don't remember my parents . . . I was taken to the Southern Air Temple when I was very young, and raised almost entirely by Monk Gyatso. We were taught to detach ourselves from all worldly things. My parents were never spoken of—I don't know if they died before I was born or simply continued spiritual lives of service. None of us knew our parents—perhaps we were all orphans, perhaps our fathers were there at the temple with us and one of the many hands that taught us and held us and meditated with us. I don't remember ever wondering—I simply accepted that that was the way of things."

"I didn't realize . . . that's kind of sad."

Aang smiled, "No, it's not. Instead of one father and one mother, I had 300 fathers. You grew up learning who to ask permission from, who would comfort you when you had been scolded by another, who was most likely to scold, who was most likely to praise . . . never for a moment did I ever feel unloved. Believe me, all of the monks had a favorite." Aang laid his head back and smiled at the memory.

"It must have destroyed him when you left."

"Yes, I think that it probably did." Aang turned sad gray eyes back to her. "I know what it means to love someone—love them until you can't breathe when they are in the room and your heart stops when they touch you. I don't know how to _have_ you, what it means that you are mine. I didn't grow up watching loving parents negotiate the world together—I don't really knows what it means to be a husband—not like in the Water Tribe. It has always been easier to have you close but unable to have you—I understand the wanting fine. It's the having that I can't wrap my mind around.

"Marriages between air benders were very ritualized, and spouses rarely left the temples to live together. I remember seeing monks whose wives had become injured in battle, were sick, or had died. They felt the loss deeply. It's hard to reconcile the deep love they felt with the worldly detachment they displayed.

"While I was with your people, I was envious of the close family ties between you. When we travelled, I have seen that what I always accepted as the norm is nothing like the way the rest of the world lives. Even in the Fire Nation, family is everything. Look at Zuko and Mai—they are fiercely devoted to one another. I want that.

"Marriages between the nations is so rare—it's almost unheard of. There's just a lot of uncertainty. And," he squeezed her to him, "I clearly don't understand how to be betrothed to a Water Tribe girl."

"Don't the non-bending Air Nomads have marriage customs?"

Aang crinkled his brow. "They do, but those customs aren't meaningful to me—all I know are the customs of the temple, and those are completely foreign to your people."

"So you don't regret the betrothal."

"No! Of course not!" After a pause, "Do you?"

Blushing, Katara turned back to him. "Well, it was rather . . . spectacular . . . but I'm glad that you did it. Now about those boundaries . . ."

"Yes?"

"I'll let you know when you've crossed one."

"I hope I survive it." Aang stretched and stifled a massive yawn with difficulty.

"You should rest." She took in the state of him—tired from travel, grimy from the ordeal in the South, wet from her bending, and sprawled in the bottom of Appa's saddle, legs still hanging out awkwardly. She started to rise, but he gently pulled her back down next to him.

Tentatively, he offered, "I'll rest better with my wife next to me," clearly hoping she would stay, but stopping short of asking so she wouldn't have to say no if that would cross one of the unspoken boundaries. Katara nudged him up to a more comfortable position and settled back in next to his side, sliding her hand back under the damp silk of his robes to rest above his heart while he pulled her close and breathed her in. Aang was asleep in moments, but she stayed there for hours, rolling what he had told her over in her mind.

The trees cast lazy shadows that swayed gently in the breeze. The combinations of the shifting golden light, Aang's warmth pouring into her, and her musings had brought her gradually back to the soft euphoric glow of their arrival. Privately smiling to herself, Katara realized that Aang was going to need some . . . guidance. She finally drifted off to sleep herself, having realized with some satisfaction that if the problem was that he didn't know what to do with her, perhaps the solution was for _her_ to decide precisely what _she_ was going to do with _him_.


	5. CH 5: The Sea and the Sky

I own no part of Avatar: Fanfiction only.

The Sea and the Sky and Everything that Laid Between Them

Katara woke in soft afternoon light to find Aang still snuggled next to her with his head propped on a pack. His free hand was raised, and making imperceptibly small motions—a small twitch of the wrist, a gentle vibration of the whole hand, then a finger flexed one knuckle at a time, his thumb rotating and then pushed firmly forward, but slowly, slowly . . . She turned her face to follow his gaze into the clearing and gasped in surprise.

"What do you think?"

"It's . . . wow—I'm not sure what you're doing, but it's incredible!" Katara reached out a finger and tapped at a stone seeming to hover in the air an arm's length above her. It careened away as though skittering over ice rather than sailing through thin air. She could only feel the slightest eddies of air, but she had never seen a stone lifted with earth bending that could simply be flicked away from where the bender had placed it, even when suspended. Perplexed, she tipped her head and squinted. The entire clearing was a field of slowly swirling stones. "What exactly are you bending, Aang?"

"Well, I'm not quite sure to be honest." He smiled broadly and glanced down to her and then back at the slowly rotating vortex of stones. "I've been thinking for a while about how we bend—the force that we use is ideal for battle so that's what we train for. I've been wondering what could be done by using as little force as possible. I tried with air first, but it was hard to tell if I was doing anything at all—you know, did I move that leaf, or was it just the wind?" Aang rolled his eyes. "It really worked best on your betrothal pendant—it was easier to do something delicate in the metal because it resisted the force of my bending and I found I could have more control. This though . . . I don't know. The bending is so subtle, I can't quite decide if I'm lifting the stones and moving them with earth bending or lifting them and pushing them with air, or maybe lifting and moving with air. I can't usually manage more than one element at a time unless I'm in the Avatar state, and let's be honest, I destroy everything in sight when that happens. I thought it might be a good training exercise to be able to control my bending more precisely—maybe it will give me more control in the Avatar state."

It had been years since Aang had had to unleash the unbridled power of the Avatar state; it was awe-inspiring and terrifying at once. When he first used it during battle, Aang wasn't always able to distinguish friend from foe, and it was only with difficulty that she had been able to pull him back. Being in the Avatar state also placed him at his most vulnerable, and she regularly woke from nightmares that inevitably ended with his broken body in her arms.

Katara rose, entranced, and gingerly stepped into the array of stones. "When did you realize you could do this?" Aang shrugged happily and let her wander deeper into the field of suspended stones. He didn't move them out of her path—he let her push them out of the way as she moved. Momo was equally interested, chattering excitedly as he hopped from one hovering stone to the next, balancing as it dipped momentarily below his weight.

Aang clenched his hand and the stones snapped together. Sitting up and bracing his elbows on knees, he forced the stones together and brought them closer to him. He then took one hand and with a fluttering motion, applied flame to the twisting rock, alternating between pressure and heat until it gradually became a single glowing mass—liquid and clear. Katara had only seen him attempt glass once before, when building the council hall, and was transfixed. He must have been practicing. Aang glanced up to make sure she was watching as he turned his hands in with fingers laced and pointed back at his heart, and then suddenly flicked them out and released them. The glass was bent into gossamer-fine ribbons that sliced through the air and came to rest on the branches of the trees, draping like cobwebs and freezing in place as they cooled. Suddenly the entire clearing reflected the light of the afternoon sun and dazzled. Aang rose and chose several of the thicker ribbons of glass from a low branch, heated them, and bent it into a fine glass cuff. With a blast of air he cooled it instantly.

"For you." Aang slid the glass cuff over her hand and elbow to rest against a gold band Zuko and Mai had gifted her on a past visit.

"It's beautiful—thank you!"

Pleased, Aang smoothed his thumb over the glass. "I like making glass—it's clear like air, fluid like water, but made from earth through the power of fire." He looked up, surveying the sparkling boughs. "What do you think of the trees? I thought it might be a nice addition to decorate the rafters of the council hall for the wedding." Aang casually walked back to Aapa's saddle, preparing to place it back on his back for the last leg of their journey.

Katara wrapped her arms around him from behind and buried her face in the silk of his robes. "We're OK?"

"We're OK. Let's get going."

Aang and Katara had agreed to set up camp for the night outside the village before he met with the local magistrates. Katara paced around the clearing, scrutinizing the ground.

"Aang, do you think you could make me an earth tent before you go?"

Surprised, Aang looked up from a broken buckle he was attempting to repair on Appa's Saddle. "Sure . . . but why?"

"So we don't get wet if it rains."

Aang laughed. "Katara, we just came down out of a perfect blue sky—the sky was clear as far as we could see for miles. The likelihood of it raining is pretty-"

Katara planted her feet akimbo and crossed her arms. "I am a master water bender—I'm telling you, we need an earth tent."

Now she had his full attention, and he stopped fiddling with the offending buckle. _Too_ _bad we don't have a master air bender with us—maybe he'd have some insight into the weather._ He knew it would do no good to point out that _he_ was both a master water _and_ air bender, and that the master of the elements was probably more qualified to determine if rain was coming than she was. Shrugging, Aang jabbed both hands sharply down at his sides and then up to a peak in front of him, creating an earth tent directly in front of where Katara was directing her gaze. Assuming the matter was closed, Aang went back to unpacking Appa's saddle. The hawks had been going back and forth thick and fast for the past two days, and he was dreading that there would likely be several days worth of negotiations before the magistrates would be able to come to an agreement with the Fire Nation merchants.

After a few minutes, "Aang . . . that wasn't quite what I had in mind."

"What do you mean? Don't you like it there?"

"No, the location is fine . . . I was thinking of something a bit bigger."

Aang laughed. "How much bigger? Is it for Appa?"

"No . . . actually, I think I really need more like a stone table, but big enough to stand under."

Sniggering, Aang asked, "Why? Who's coming to dinner?"

"No one. Are you going to fix the tent or not?"

"OK, sure. One stone table-tent coming right up." Bringing his hands together and then throwing them back behind him, he pushed the earth tent back into the ground. One eyebrow cocked in disbelief and amusement at the absurdity of Katara's request, he jabbed both hands down again and snapped them up to face level with palms up forming two walls of stone just a bit taller than himself. Crossing his left arm over his body and raising the left knee to waist height, he lunged forward into a low fighting stance and jabbed toward the earth with both hands. As he snapped back upright, bringing the right foot to the left, he swept both hands up and leveled them before his eyes. The result was another sheet of stone drawn from the earth and placed over the top of the stone walls. Aang bowed formally to Katara. "Does this meet the needs of the Lady Katara?"

" _Sifu_ Katara."

Struggling to keep his laughter in check, Aang flourished a hand and dropped into an even deeper bow. "A thousand apologies, _Sifu_ Katara. Will this meet your needs for this evening?"

Amused but unwilling to acknowledge the silliness of her demands, Katara responded, "Perfectly. If you have finished unpacking the air beast, you may go now to perform your other duties, Avatar."

His shoulders now quaking with repressed mirth, Aang replied, "Always your humble servant, the lowly Avatar will now take his leave to attempt to negotiate tariffs and prevent abuses of power by the mighty nations."

It had been dark for a few hours by the time Aang was able to extricate himself from the arguing to return to camp. As he neared the clearing, Aang had to rub his eyes and look again. _What is she doing?_ The stone table-tent was now . . . glowing? As Appa landed, he could hear her humming and see her silhouette dancing on some sort of fabric stretched over the side of the table-tent. Charmed, he bent off Appa's saddle, and gave him a cursory scratch to the ears while watching her shadow turn and her hair swing as she swooped low in her dance.

"Katara? Can I come in?" His hand reached out to touch the thin fabric stretched over the entrance to what was, now that he saw what she had in mind, a rather homey earth tent. He'd always hated the rough ones Toph made, and was always horrified at the thought of being entombed in one, though that was how she had preferred to sleep when she was in a huff.

"Yes! I've been waiting for you!" Katara drew back the fabric to let him in.

"What's all this?"

Katara beamed. "Well, remember when you said that you didn't know how to be betrothed to a Water Tribe girl?" Aang nodded, his mouth quirked into a lopsided smile. "Well, when a girl gets engaged in our tribe, she takes her hope chest to their new home and starts to assemble the couple's new household. The groom doesn't normally get to come into the new home until they are wed, but I'm willing to bend the rules if you are."

As Aang took in the scope of the space between the earthen walls and roof, he was impressed. Katara had bent niches into the walls of the tent and inserted small lamps made from lion-mussel shells filled with fragrant oil. On the floor was laid pillows and a thick mattress that he guessed were probably filled with some sort of down and covered with an intricately embroidered quilt in shades of blue and violet.

"You asked what kinds of things were put into my hope chest—I thought you'd enjoy seeing."

Aang beamed at her. "This is amazing . . . All of this came out of the bundle rolled in the rabbit-seal hide?"

"Mmm hmm. Come sit and eat while I show you the rest."

Tired from his meeting, Aang sank into the deep mattress gratefully and leaned against one of the stone walls. Next to the mattress was a basket woven of the quills from porcupine-clams, and from the basket, Katara drew out item after item, telling him stories as each item emerged. Beads carved from the teeth of bear-foxes, hand-carved boxes of carefully dried rare healing herbs, a jar of salve that Gran Gran had learned to make from her own grandmother as a child by bending saltwater into the fat of a horned dolphin, a wickedly sharp knife that was made from spirit glass found only around the portals to the spirit world at the North Pole. Katara told him the history of her tribe by following the images embroidered on the cloth stretched over the ends of the tent, and the story of the epic poem that was illustrated on the coverlet. Katara regaled him with stories from her father's days as a boy, of scrapes that he and Bato had narrowly escaped, and spun out ancient legends about the spirits revered by the Southern Water Tribe. As the night wore on, she laid back against the pillows and taught him finger games the Southern Water Tribe children played by weaving intricate patterns of rabbit-seal gut twine on their fingers. She laughed when he was unable to follow the intricate pattern of movements to replicate the webs.

Passing him a shallow basket of cakes made from rice flour and seaweed, Katara drew a wide bracelet heavy with embroidery from the basket. The stitches were very fine, laid side by side in a swirling pattern of red and gold threads over the blue rabbit-seal leather. Chips of iridescent shells had been stitched in a continuous line to emphasize swooping lines that from one angle looked like stylized waves rolling, and from another like clouds. She stroked it affectionately, tracing the path of the shells and smiled at Aang.

"What's this?" Aang tipped his chin at the bracelet as he laid back against the pillows, expecting another story of a beloved grandmother or aunt or a geography lesson explaining how the shells had been collected.

Katara blushed and looked down to watch the progress of her fingers over the stitching. "This is the most precious of all the treasures in my hope chest. It took a lifetime to make it and carries generations of happy dreaming and prayers for good luck and safety in every stitch."

Interested, Aang sat back up to get a closer look. "Really? The design doesn't look like anything I've seen before in traditional Water Tribe crafts." He turned his head from side to side trying to decide what it looked like. "It's funny—it actually looks more like an Air Nomad design. What did you mean when you said it took a lifetime to make?"

"Young girls in our tribe learn to sew from an early age, and once we've learned the craft, we start to work on a piece like this one. Although there are common patterns, each girl creates her own. We are taught that the secrets to our destiny are whispered into our ears by the spirits in the moments before we are born, and that the design we stitch into this piece is guided by the spirits themselves to reveal the path our life will take.

"All of the women in the tribe have pouches of beads and threads passed down from grandmother to grandchild, sometimes for generations, so that in any one bracelet, there would be several generations of love stitched in. The young woman who worked on _this_ bracelet started hers early—when she was six—based on a design she had been drawing in the snow and in the margins of books since she could walk. She had nearly fifteen years to work on it.

"When the elders asked her what the design was, she told them that it was the sea and the sky and everything that laid between them. While she stitched, she dreamt of the future and prayed for the one who would someday wear it, that he would always return safely to her."

Katara turned the bracelet over in her hands to reveal that along one side of the bracelet had been stitched a row of mismatched hand-made beads such that they swung loose as her hand trembled. Aang's breath caught as he recognized them as the beads he had saved from gifts given by children in their travels. "And for the past seven years, it is _your_ name that I have prayed into each stitch." Katara looked up to meet Aang's eyes. "This is the gift a Southern Water Tribe girl presents to her beloved when she accepts his proposal."

Aang swept Katara to him in a crushing embrace. "Thank you . . . there aren't words . . . just . . .thank you." After gently kissing her, Aang coaxed Katara down next to him and guided her head to settle in the hollow of his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. When they woke in the morning, the sweet oil of the lamps had burnt out, but the warm glow remained.


	6. CH 6: The Blood Debt

I own no part of Avatar: Fanfiction only.

The Blood Debt

Katara woke to the scent of tea wafting through the front of the tent, which had been folded back. Every few weeks, a hawk would arrive from Ba Sing Se with envelopes of dried tea rolled into the cylinder meant for messages. There was never a note, but they knew that the tea carried Iroh's love to them wherever they were.

From where she sat, Katara could see Aang knelt over the fire, lifting a small steamer of rice from over bubbling water. Her eyes traced his form, from trim hips wrapped in the traditional loose saffron trousers he wore for travel, over the graceful curve of his spine to bare broad shoulders. Her heart clinched at the sight of the twisted scar that interrupted the path of his tattoo down his long slender back. She hated that she had been unable to perfectly repair the skin there. The ridges of scars that spread nearly to his sides had paled over time, but there was no replacing the precious lost ink. She could tell from the pitch of his voice that he was talking animatedly to Momo, who would periodically chatter back.

"You're happy this morning." Aang rose and brought with him the steamer and tea pot, having already laid cups and chopsticks next to the bed. She noticed that he had tied on her bracelet, though it slid loosely over his thin wrist.

Beaming, he replied, "I _am_ happy this morning." He'd woken early from pleasant dreams of ancient stories remembered from his youth to find his bride warm and tousled next to him. "I can't remember having slept so well since . . ." his gaze wandered skyward as he considered, "Zuko and Mai's wedding?"

Katara smiled, savoring Iroh's tea with closed eyes. "Mmm . . . it's been too long since we've seen them. Now that we are engaged, I think it's probably safe to visit again!" Katara opened her eyes to find Aang regarding her, head tipped slightly to the side, grinning dopily with unfocused eyes. "Where are you right now?" she laughed.

"In a hallway of the fire palace." _Spirits, he'd never forget that dress . . ._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It had been two summers since Zuko and Mai had finally married. In the intervening five years, Zuko had worked tirelessly to make every effort to repair the world his father and grandfather had run roughshod over. Leaving Iroh behind in the capitol to act as regent, Zuko personally oversaw the reconstruction of hundreds of towns and villages, asking the forgiveness of the people of each town.

Zuko began his campaign of reconciliation in the winter following his ascension to the throne, as it had taken several months to reign in the chaos in the Fire Nation following Ozai's imprisonment. In a display of repeated and extreme humility, Zuko chose to arrive at each town before sunrise, leaving his men outside the settlement. Zuko would walk alone to the center of town, offer a sun salutation, and then prostrate himself in the dirt, where he kowtowed until late in the night when the last villager had found their beds. If it rained, he remained in the puddle that formed around him, raising his face only enough to breathe. If it snowed, he shivered in his fine fire nation silks until his was blue. But he did not move. When his men asked why he did this, he answered that he wanted the people to know that they could sleep easy in their beds even if the Fire Lord himself was right outside their door and that during his reign, the Fire Nation would never harm them again.

The story of the penitent Fire Lord travelled ahead of him, and in days, people came from neighboring villages to marvel at the sight. For weeks, during his first day in a village, he endured constant abuse in silence and stillness. When men threatened to crush his hands, he left them where they laid flat on the earth above his head and allowed them to be trod upon. At almost every town, boys would set his clothing on fire, which Zuko simply bent away without anger or retribution. Everywhere he was kicked and ridiculed; several times he was caned, twice he was stoned. Once, in an act of particular cruelty, a man drove three nails through one of his feet—one for each son that had been taken from him by the fire nation. In the first month, two of Zuko's ribs had been broken as well as all of the fingers on his right hand, but he did not stop.

When the village was quiet, Zuko would rise, often with difficulty, and limp through town to the outskirts where his men waited. He would return the following day, bow to the village elders, and ask forgiveness for the actions of the Fire Nation. His men would then set to work repairing the town. Where crops had been burned, they were replanted. Homes razed were rebuilt. Before he left, Zuko took special consideration to ensure that every town had a school and a clean, deep well. If there was no underground water, he instructed that a team of his men were to stay behind to construct an aqueduct. In places where the Fire Nation factories had destroyed the earth and water, he sent hawks to sympathetic benders he had fought with in the war to beg them to come to yet another town to help cleanse the village of the destruction.

Zuko's men were given strict instructions that under no circumstances were they to fire bend. Not to heat their tea, not to light their lamps, and _never_ to defend themselves.

News of the Fire Lord's sincerity and the restraint of his men started to travel, and soon the villages anticipated Zuko's arrival eagerly. Watches were organized within the villages to guarantee his safety, and braziers were set beside him to provide heat. By the third month, Zuko would sometimes find a bamboo mat or a cushion laid out in the center of the village in preparation for his arrival. Eventually, children would bring rice cakes and flowers and place them near his hands. Where before he had been beaten by the men, children would now sit on his back and braid wild flowers into his hair. Sometimes they would tie strings of beads around his neck and wrists and ankles. Women would casually stand by him gossiping, their true purpose to shield him from the worst of the day's heat with their parasols. By the fifth month, groups of children would be waiting for him on the second day, begging for stories and ancient Fire Nation myths. By the twelfth month, Zuko was exhausted, but the world was ready to forgive.

Zuko had nearly emptied the vast coffers of the Fire Nation in his efforts, but it was Mai who single-handedly saved her people's economy. For most of her life, Mai's affluent family had expected her role to be primarily decorative, her greatest value in her ability to hold the crown prince's attention. Mai's father died shortly after Zuko's departure, leaving her to manage his factories, which had produced the bulk of the Fire Nation's war machines. Mai's constant complaints of boredom had always been brutally sincere—it turned out that Mai possessed an unparalleled mind for mathematics and engineering that had before now been pressed to master dancing, calligraphy, and flower arranging. Coupled with her ruthless efficiency, she made for a shrewd business woman who was able to turn silent factories into hubs of industry.

One of Mai's greatest strengths was her lack of bending abilities. Mai retrofitted her father's war machine designs that required fire bending to operate into steam-driven engines that could be used by even non-benders. While Zuko groveled in the mud to restore the honor of his nation, a grease-smeared Mai created the trade opportunities that would allow the Fire Nation to continue the war reparations without going bankrupt. Much as Aang relied on Katara for her insight with the people they worked with in the villages, Zuko now found himself increasingly relying on Mai's expertise in industry, trade, and economics, skills that had been entirely omitted in his education.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

When Aang received the hawk that invited himself and Katara to the long-awaited wedding of the Fire Lord, it was accompanied by a personal note from Zuko requesting that Aang should act as his best man. Before Aang could continue reading the note aloud to Katara, she had snatched it from his hand to read it herself.

"After months of spending every waking moment on a personal mission to annihilate you, he's now declaring you as his closest friend and confidante?" Katara looked over the parchment at Aang in disbelief. "You must be kidding."

Aang rubbed his head in consternation. "I don't know Katara; I think he's serious. His mother left them when he was very young, and I can't imagine he had a lot of friends in school that didn't just want to make alliances with the future Fire Lord. And then there's his charming sister to consider. And his father threw him out of the nation as a child after melting half his face off. We are about the only people in his life besides Iroh and Mai who haven't abandoned, betrayed, or actively tried to kill him."

Abashed, Katara responded, "I suppose you're right. This says that the wedding is in a two days! We have to leave now just to get there in time for the wedding."

Zuko must have set someone to watch specifically for them, because when Appa set his paws down in the square in front of the palace, Zuko was waiting for them. As they were arriving partially in their capacity as the Avatar and Sifu Katara, Aang made a point to formally help Katara to her feet. He grasped her around the waist and used his bending so they could descend gracefully together. In an uncharacteristically flamboyant display of affection, Zuko hugged first Aang and then Katara. "You came! I wasn't sure that you would."

Aang clasped Zuko's arm and said levelly, "I will always come when you call me—you can count on it." Overcome, Zuko nodded sharply.

"Come, let me show you to your rooms."

After Aang saw to it that two young men were leading Appa gently to the stables, Zuko lead them into the heart of the palace. They strode past courtyards with moon blossom trees heavily laden with flowers, past koi ponds with fountains playing over swirling jeweled bodies, past tapestries of lower nobles and ancient ancestors. As they walked, Zuko caught them up on the state of the realm and how Mai had recently devised a rail system that her steam machines could use to travel over long distances.

Finally, Zuko indicated a door to the left, "These are our rooms," and walking just a few paces more, "and these are yours." Zuko opened the door into a large room with a high ceiling supported by columns carved with the forms of wriggling dragons ascending to the beams above. Unlike the rest of the palace, in which every stitch of fabric and stick of furniture was lacquered red or black, this room alone had been stripped back to the original pale wood, and soft woven mats in muted browns had been spread to cover the floors. The room opened onto a broad balcony that revealed a breathtaking view of the mountains surrounding the palace and the bay below. Gauzy red drapes that fluttered from the other windows in the palace had been replaced with bamboo shades. The furniture was simple, and saffron cushions were set along the sides of a long low table for meals. Doors opened onto additional rooms to either side of the sitting room, and these seemed equally expansive.

Zuko turned to Aang, "I would be honored if you would consider this place to be your personal residence within the Fire Nation. It will be kept ready for you at all times should you need it, and while you are here, you'll want for nothing." When Aang started to protest, Zuko stopped him. "No. This is my home, and a place will always be kept here for you. I would have neither home nor family nor a nation to lead if it were not for you. It is my honor to have you here as my personal guests." Zuko bowed formally to both of them. "The ceremony will start in a couple of hours, so please take some time to rest and eat." As Zuko spoke, a servant brought in tea and bowls cold sweetened rice and fruit. "Aang, if I might have word with you . . ." Zuko turned and left, Aang on his heels.

Closing the door behind him, Zuko turned to face Aang. "You owe me a blood debt, and I intend to collect upon it."

"What? What blood debt?"

Glancing back at the door, Zuko ushered Aang a few steps back down the hallway. "Keep your voice down. The day you woke after the ordeal with Ozai, you claimed that you would always be in my debt for taking the bolt of lightning that had been meant for Katara. I gave you my conditions for settling our debt, and you have made no effort to satisfy them. I stood outside that door and listened to Katara promise you that she would always stay with you." Zuko was no longer tall enough to loom over Aang, but he leaned menacingly close-nearly nose to nose. "I fully expected you to have given her an honorable marriage by now."

Blushing furiously, Aang took a pace back and stammered, "But . . . I can't just . . . I have to . . ."

Zuko advanced, his arms crossed. "I consider you my closest friend, but I will see this matter settled to _my_ satisfaction. Katara has saved my life at least a dozen times, and I consider it my _personal_ duty to ensure her honor and happiness." Zuko leaned closer and smirked, "I will intervene if necessary." Zuko turned on the spot, leaving Aang to goggle at his retreating back. _What did Zuko mean by intervene?_

By the time Aang had returned to their rooms, Katara had already washed and changed into her formal Southern Water Tribe attire. He had selected a fire pear from the bowl on the table when another visitor knocked at the door. Aang opened it to find the Lady Mai and Ty Lee waiting on the other side. They brushed past him without acknowledgement.

"See, I told you. This will never do. She will drop of heat stroke in the Forge." Katara looked up in mid-bite, chopsticks hovering with a bite of rice. Ty Lee was visibly bouncing on the balls of her feet in barely contained excitement.

"What won't do?" Katara asked, looking down at her dress.

"Katara," Mai drawled, "didn't they explain to you about the Forge?"

Bristling, Katara replied, "They explained that that's where we were going and that it was at the base of a volcano. Why can't I go in what I'm wearing?"

Patiently, Mai explained, "The forge isn't at the base of a volcano—it's _in_ the base of a volcano. Only a handful of our closest friends will be able to join us for the ceremony, and because of the extreme heat, the ceremony is very short, and the attire is very . . . different. Didn't you see the dress that was left for you in your room?"

This was clearly the moment Ty Lee had been waiting for, and she bounded into the next room to return with . . . well, Katara wasn't sure what she was carrying, but it certainly didn't qualify as a dress by any definition that she was familiar with.

"And you'll want the eye make-up too," Ty Lee chirped. "It helps reflect away the heat from your eyes—plus, it's super pretty!"

"There must be some mistake," Katara laughed. "That _can't_ be for me—I haven't fit into a dress that size since before I could bend ice!"

The corners of Mai's lips quirked up in amusement as she folded her arms. "I assure you, it _will_ fit."

Katara swallowed nervously and looked in astonishment between Mai and Ty Lee. Mai gestured her up, and she reluctantly stood and allowed them to lead her back to the bedroom. Katara cast a nervous glance over her shoulder at Aang, and he shrugged expressively. It seemed unlikely that they were planning to murder her in a royal apartment on the eve of Mai's wedding . . . how bad could it be? After closing the door quietly, Aang listened perplexed to the murmurs that filtered through the door while he changed. At one point, he heard a long, astonished, "No . . ." in Katara's voice followed by Ty Lee's girlish giggle and what must have been Mai's soft laugh. For the next hour, he watched the closed door awestruck as he drank tea and ate. Nothing in his short life could have prepared him for the sound of Katara _giggling_ with two women who had made multiple very credible attempts on her life, little lone allow them to dress her. Whatever they were doing in there, the longer it went on, the louder the "ooh"s and exclamations and laughter got. There were even several minutes of singing, clapping, and _are they dancing?_ followed by riotous laughter and what sounded like someone pounding on a surface in hilarity. Finally Mai and Ty Lee emerged, both red in the face, Ty Lee leaning on Mai heavily and sniggering into her shoulder.

"Come along, Avatar," Mai chirped over her shoulder, "It's time to head to the Fire Grotto."

Aang watched them pass into the hallway, and turned back to meet Katara. She was dressed in the same floor-length blood red robe as Mai and Ty Lee. The top of the sleeves stopped at her wrist but the bottom cascaded to the floor, and the robe had a stiff high collar that reached nearly to her ears and was emblazoned with gold flames. The front of her hair had been drawn up in the same circlet of flame that was worn by the ladies of the royal court. All three of the young women had applied what looked very much like flakes of gold leaf between brow and eye lashes that framed Katara's intense blue eyes and made them shimmer.

As Katara reached Aang, he grasped her elbow. "Are you alright? What was going on in there?"

Katara blushed and drew a fan from her sleeve to fan her face. "I'm fine! Let's go."

Aang watched the women precede him down the hallway in confusion—wasn't it hot in the Forge? He was dressed in his summer monk's robes, a broad strip of heavy silk, woven to be saffron on one side and orange on the other that draped from his left shoulder and belted with a red sash over short, dark grey trousers. The women looked like they were dressed for winter. Mai and Ty Lee led them down a flight of stairs to where Zuko, Iroh, Toph, and Sokka waited. Toph, too, was dressed in the same long robes, but clearly had enjoyed it much less than Katara had. Her arms were firmly crossed in front of her and she huffed in impatience.

"It's about time, Sugar Queen. We didn't think you were coming."

"Toph! Sokka!" Katara hiked up the hem of her robe and jumped down the last few steps into her brother's hug. Aang couldn't help but notice the several inches of bare leg that were revealed. "Where's Suki?"

"We will see her in the plaza later. There's only room for a few of us in the forge."

Aang noticed that Sokka, Iroh, and Zuko were dressed in identical robes to the women with the exception that the sleeves didn't fall to the floor and the robe stopped just above the knee. They too wore knee-length trousers similar to his own.

Iroh led their party down four more flights of stairs. As they descended, they caught up on missed time from their individual lives, Sokka and Suki on Kyoshi Island, Toph and Iroh in Ba Sing Se.

After returning to complete his training with Piandao, Sokka was now a master swordsman and member of the Order of the White Lotus in his own right. Boys came from all over the world to train with Sifu Sokka at the fortress on Kyoshi; their sisters came to train with his wife.

When she had returned to the Earth Kingdom, Toph had refused to return to her parents' house, choosing stubbornly to work for Iroh at the Jasmine Dragon instead. Over the years, earth benders had started to seek her out at the tea shop to learn metal bending, and she now spent her days teaching a very small group of metal benders who had the talent.

Over the years, Toph had become as deeply attached to Iroh as Zuko was and was fiercely loyal to him. For all intensive purposes, Iroh had become her guardian, and she was the daughter he had never known. Aang knew that Iroh had been trying for some time to persuade Toph to accept one of the many proposals she had received from her admirers, but she had stubbornly refused. When Iroh had returned to the Fire Nation as regent, Toph had accompanied him, and was now treated with the same respect and awe as a royal daughter of the Fire Nation court. As they passed attendants on each flight of stairs, Aang noticed that they bowed to the Fire Lord and Iroh, but did not raise their eyes until Toph herself had passed and nodded in acknowledgement.

Iroh led them to an ornately carved door bearing two dragons flying in a spiral around one another. Iroh sent a jet of flame into the mouth of one dragon, and they watched in awe as it arced and swirled through the filigreed design of the dragon's bodies until it reached the other dragon's mouth and triggered the mechanism to open the door latch. Iroh turned to them.

"This is the entrance to the ancient Fire Grotto. This cave forms a passageway through the crust of the volcano, and it was here in the heart of the volcano that fire benders came to watch the dragons bend the fire of the volcano. This is the most sacred place in all of the Fire Nation, and you may only enter with your feet bare. You must be very careful to step only on the raised stones as the floor beneath is very hot."

Iroh nodded at Toph, who had already planted her feet solidly on the black lacquered floor and was prepared to bend. Placing her palms up, she twitched her hands sharply and stopped, shoulders tensed. Iroh reached out and pulled the latch of the door, and it swung smoothly and silently into the landing. Heat bloomed through the door as it swung open, and Aang saw immediately why Toph had helped. The door was over two feet thick, and probably would have required the efforts of four or five men to open it under normal circumstances. She was only supporting the weight of the door, allowing Iroh to swing it open with ease. After the eight of them stepped into the grotto, she snapped it shut behind them.

It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the relative darkness at the mouth of the grotto. Within, the walls of the grotto smoldered like a burning coal, black and ashen and perforated with cracks that glowed orange. Through a broad opening about thirty paces ahead, Aang could see the air shimmer above the lake of sluggishly boiling stone. Iroh removed his robe and handed it to a waiting attendant, revealing an intricate black dragon tattoo that coiled across one half of his broad back. As Sokka and Zuko removed their outer robes, Aang shrugged out of his monk's robe. After draping it over the arms of another attendant, Aang turned to say something to Katara and gaped openly.

He wasn't sure what the women were wearing, but he'd certainly never seen a dress like that. "Aang . . . Aang!" Someone hissed from a long way away. He wasn't able to draw his eyes away from Katara until Sokka punched him hard in the shoulder. Coming to his senses, he looked at Sokka. "You're staring!" Sokka hissed under his breath. "Pull it together—you can gawk at my sister later."

At first glance, Katara's dress was simple enough—it was sleeveless, and the same high embroidered collar that had been on her outer robes flowed into a tightly fitting blood red silk bodice that hugged the curves of her body to the hips. The skirt, however was formed of strips of gossamer fine silk with curling edges like lettuce leaves that lifted and lazily floated in the currents of heated air that swirled through the grotto. When she had turned to hand her outer robe to the attendant, his breath caught in his chest when he saw that the back of the dress had been cut away just below the collar to reveal her entire back, from bare shoulder to bare shoulder, curving down to a couple of inches below her waist. The shifting light made the gold flake on their eyes glow, and the four women looked like ethereal fire spirits, their skin smoldering in the red glow and the fabric floating around them like tendrils of cloud.

Toph was already heading into the volcano behind Iroh with relish, clutching the stones with her toes to enjoy the the vibrations of the molten earth rumbling up through her feet. Iroh murmured a question to Toph and she laughed. Reaching out and twisting her wrist, Aang saw a jet of magma spew out of the molten lake and then plash back down—Iroh must have asked if she could bend it. _Spirits, she's dangerous enough with metal!_ Aang shuddered to think about the devastation Toph could manage bending lava.

Iroh lead the party out onto a long jetty of volcanic rock that projected out over the lake of fire. The heat increased noticeably with every step, and the air became thicker with every breath, vibrating like a sheet of falling water. Aang followed Zuko, murmuring to him as they walked, and Katara noticed the beads of sweat flowing freely along the path of Aang's tattoo, now a deep purple. Sokka's hand shot out behind her to steady her as her foot slid on the stones made slippery by sweat. Each of them were becoming short of breath, reflexes dulled, their minds quickly becoming fogged with the heat and poisonous gasses of the volcano whipped by the ever increasing vortex of hot air. The ceremony was rapidly taking on the sense of a dream, the moments expanding into a crystalline eternity, and Katara's senses were becoming dulled as though in a trance. The heat had increased to such an intensity that her mind seemed to have floated away from her flesh and she had stopped registering it.

At the very end of the jetty, he gestured for them to stand around a platform of black volcanic glass, where he invited Zuko and Mai to kneel facing each other. As the eldest member of the royal family, it was his duty and privilege to conduct the ceremony, and spreading his arms, he bent a broad tongue of flame into a ring around Zuko and Mai. He looked to his foster-daughter and nodded, and she drew a tentacle of magma from the volcanic lake that she wrapped around the rest of them such that Iroh, Toph, Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Ty Lee were trapped between barriers of flame and molten rock.

Iroh intoned in his deep soothing voice, barely audible over the roar of the air and the sound of the bubbling rock, explaining that "The Forge is where all royal unions are formed in the Fire Nation. The inner ring of flame represents the flame of passion that unites Zuko and Mai, while the outer ring binds them to their chosen and most beloved family, their Blood Court. When fire is exhausted and lava cools, the stone of the mountain itself remains, enduring and unbending." Turning to those gathered around the couple, he continued, "Your honor, your loyalty, and your strength are the foundation Zuko and Mai will build their future upon. The vows made in this place can only be broken by death." Aang watched Katara from across the circle as she listened rapt to Iroh. "Those bound together here can only be separated by the spirits themselves." She turned to meet his gaze.

Iroh produced a small blade of volcanic glass with which he pierced the palm of each hand before passing it to Toph, who did the same. The knife passed around the circle, and Aang saw that Zuko had produced a similar blade from his own robes and was passing it to Mai. "Zuko and Mai have asked you here to form their Blood Court on the day of their union." Iroh raised his hands with palms turned out toward Toph to his left and Aang on his right. Toph immediately raised her palms, placing one against Iroh's and holding the other up in expectation of Katara doing the same. The rest of the Blood Court followed suit, palm pressed to palm, Katara to Ty Lee, Ty Lee to Sokka, Sokka to Aang, and finally Aang to Iroh. Within their ring of fire, Zuko and Mai had pressed their right palms together, and lifted their left hands, joining palms above their heads. Zuko's forehead rested against Mai's, and their eyes were locked on one another, unblinking.

"Zuko and Mai, I ask you to repeat after me . . ." Aang locked eyes with Katara above Zuko and Mai's joined hands and could not look away. He wished that he could press the intentions of his heart through the shimmering haze into her own. "I do now pledge my heart, my blood, and my honor . . ." Iroh paused for Zuko and Mai to repeat their vows, "to you my beloved . . . until I am called by the spirits."

"I now ask the Blood Court to take a similar vow . . ." Aang took a deep breath. He would pledge his friendship to Zuko always, but in his heart, he knew that any vows he pledged would be to Katara alone. "I do now pledge my allegiance, my blood, and my honor . . ." The court intoned the vow together. " . . . to the Fire Lord Zuko and the Lady Mai . . . and to those here joined by blood and by oath."

At the conclusion of the oath, Iroh and Toph drew their respective rings of fire back from the Blood Court. Zuko stood and raised Mai to her feet, and he led them away from the forge in silence. When they reached the comparative cool of the grotto, attendants waited to cover their sweat-soaked clothes with the outer cloaks that had been left behind. Zuko led them out of a second entrance that had been hidden in the darkness of the grotto, through a passage that opened to the plaza below the palace, where the citizens of the capital waited to greet them. As his best man, Aang took Katara's hand and stood behind Zuko, waiting for presentation.

As they stepped into the blessedly fresh air, attendants bowed to them. "Fire Lord, Lady Mai. The Lord Avatar, the Lady Katara. Lord Iroh and Lady Toph. Lord Sokka and Lady Ty Lee."

Katara leaned close. "Why are we lords and ladies now?"

Iroh answered from her other side. "Because of your blood oath, you are all now members of the nobility of the Fire Nation. My blood flows through your veins, and your blood through mine. By ancient custom, the members of the Blood Court of the Fire Lord are accorded the same honor, respect, and privileges as though they were born of the same womb. You are now the highest members of the Fire Kingdom court, and each of you have been granted a title, an income, and lands within the fire nation."

"What!" Aang, Katara, and Sokka gasped together.

"The Lord Avatar and his Lady Katara have been granted the governance of Ember Island, the home of Avatar Roku." Aang sighed in relief—Ember Island had been completely uninhabited since the volcano eruption that had killed Roku. "Lord Sokka has been granted governorship of a small island near Kyoshi Island which had until this moment been maintained under Fire Nation control. It will be at his discretion if it shall be returned to the governance of the Earth Kingdom."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Zuko rolled his eyes through the lengthy ceremony that presented the Fire Lord and his Lady to the crowd. To raucous cheers, Zuko, Mai, and the Blood Court progressed across the plaza to the reception. As they walked, citizens bowed to the Fire Lord, and many hands reached out to touch the robes of the Avatar walking a few paces behind him. Katara also heard a myriad of whispered prayers as they passed, "Bless the Fire Lord in his mercy and wisdom . . . Bless the Avatar who has restored the balance to the world . . . Preserve the Lady Katara . . . Praise the Lady Toph . . ."

She even felt gentle hands that reached out to stroke her hair and touch the silk of her robe. Once, a child latched onto her hand, and Katara automatically gathered her into her arms and squeezed her.

The child's mother, awed, fell to the ground kowtowing, crying out, "Bless the Avatar and his wise Lady Katara!" Aang met Katara's wide eyes and shook their joined hands. Katara smiled and set the girl back on the flagstones. She raced back to her mother's side.

"Did you see, Mama? The Lady Katara holded me!"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The banquet celebrating Zuko and Mai's wedding lasted far into the small hours of the next day. Zuko and Aang stripped to their trousers and performed the ancient Double Dragon form they had learned in the temple of the Sun Warriors. The guests cheered to see their Fire Lord bending with the Avatar, and roared with approval when they concluded the form by both breathing fire. Mai and Ty Lee sparred, Ty Lee springing through the space as though unbound by gravity, while Mai struck fruits thrown by random into the air with her endless supply of blades. Finally, there was dancing, and Aang insisted that Katara dance several sets with him.

Aang and Katara's dancing had become legendary in the Fire Kingdom, and they were asked to dance whenever they visited. This time, though, their dance was punctuated with special ardor.

At the banquet, the Blood Court had abandoned their heavy ceremonial robes, and Aang was unable to take his eyes away from the expanse of dusky skin that was displayed openly by the cut of Katara's dress. Embraces proscribed by the dance that were normally interrupted by silk were now felt intimately, and the heat built between them rapidly.

When he took her hand and moved from position to position in the traditional folk dances, his hands glided over her bare arms. When he danced behind her in the quick line step dances, her bare back pressed against his chest, each of her hands held aloft in his own, her smaller arms fitting precisely into his longer reach. When he pressed her close, he felt her heart beat against his ribs, his hand pressed to the center of her back. When she twisted in the dance, the strips of silk that had floated in the Forge now whipped around her hips, leaving her bare legs to twist and spiral in the dance steps unimpeded.

When finally a slower song was played, Aang pulled her close, and she draped against his taller frame, damp and nearly limp from the exertion of the dance. The dance called for him to hold her neck beneath her damp hair, then to spin her away, and then to pull her close to his body for several beats. When she returned for the last set at the end of the dance, he pressed her closer and tighter to his body than was strictly necessary. When she looked up and met his cool gray eyes, he cupped his hand around her face and kissed her deeply as they swayed to the beat.

Mai noticed that throughout the banquet, Zuko had been watching the pair with increasing enjoyment. The couple now swayed near the corner of the hall, completely oblivious to the many admiring eyes that watched enviously as the obvious passion between the powerful Avatar and his Lady unfolded. Zuko sat back in satisfaction and smiled broadly.

Tipping her head, Mai asked, "Why are you so pleased?"

Zuko hadn't realized that Mai was watching him watch them. He looked between her and the swaying couple and drew her close to him for a kiss. "The Avatar owes me a blood debt, and I am hoping to have it satisfied this evening." He raised his glass of fire lily mead and swirled it pointedly.

Mai narrowed her eyes and looked from him to where Aang and Katara had been sitting for the evening, full glasses of mead waiting for them.

"You can't poison the Avatar! He just swore a blood oath to you!"

Zuko laughed. "I'm not poisoning him—I'm trying to set him free."

The color drained from Mai's face. "What have you done?"

Zuko laughed again and squeezed her shoulders. He explained about the nature of the blood debt and what he expected the Avatar to do to satisfy his obligation. Mai leaned back against the cushions and laughed. "Just how much mead have you plied the Avatar with?"

Fire lily mead was a special delicacy that was served only to the bride and groom at Fire Nation weddings. It was meant to ensure a happy union and many offspring, but was mostly prized for it's highly aphrodisiac properties. Unlike normal honey mead, which would intoxicate like any wine, fire lily mead was made by bee-flies that only fed on the nectar of the fire lily. It would not dull the senses or bring sleep like wine. Rather than drunkenness, fire lily wine brought a near-spiritual acuity that heightened sensations, induced euphoria, and unlocked hidden passions. Like any wine, the strength of the mead was significantly enhanced with age, and the effects compounded _significantly_ with the amount of mead that was drunk.

Looking askance to be sure no one else saw, Zuko lifted the cloth covering the table with a toe. Mae gasped when she saw eight empty bottles that had once held 200-year old mead. "How are they still _upright?"_

Zuko laughed heartily, "I can't imagine! Neither of them have tasted it, so they can't have any tolerance for it or any idea what it is. I instructed the steward to refill their glasses _every_ time they sat them down. I told him to continue, even if he empties the entire wine cellar. I doubt either of them have any idea! At this point, I'm planning to just sit back and enjoy the show." Smiling with smug satisfaction, he concluded, " I expect that my blood debt will be satisfied by morning."

The dance concluded, Aang and Katara fell back into their places at the banquet table next to Zuko and Mai. Zuko and Mai took a single glance at them and dissolved into irrepressible laughter as they watched Aang and Katara both drain their glasses. Mai had to press her face into Zuko's chest, which she gently pounded with a fist in her mirth. Aang gaped open-mouthed at Mai and Zuko. _Nothing_ could be funny enough to elicit that kind of laughter from Mai.

"Are you alright?" Zuko had now quite lost control and leaned back in his seat, head thrown back in laughter. Looking concerned, Aang lifted the glass of mead from Zuko's hand. "I think you've had enough to drink." This was met with further gales of laughter, and Mai fizzed as she wiped tears from her eyes.

His eyes glittering, Zuko rose and offered a hand to Mai. "I think you're absolutely right. We should dance."

Katara rose, flushed. "I think I'd like some air." She smiled at Aang and extended a hand. "Would you care to join me?" Zuko and Mai continued to laugh as they walked away.

Aang wrapped his summer robes back over his shoulder and belted them at the waist before taking Katara's proffered hand and following her into the night. As they strolled through the palace, Katara found a small cloth ball abandoned by one of the household servants' children near a fountain and tossed it to Aang.

After a several tosses between them, the game turned into keep-away, Katara giggling as she twisted and swerved to keep the ball out of Aang's significantly longer reach. She set off through the empty corridors, barreling at full speed, racing through pools of moonlight and shadow. Only yards ahead of Aang, Katara realized that her flight had returned her to the wing of the palace that housed the royal apartments, and that there was nowhere else to go. The hallway passed that of the royal couple and theirs and ended with two smaller apartments that they had learned belonged to Iroh and Toph. Realizing her mistake, she turned, intending to double back, but Aang reached the end of the corridor first.

Through his haphazard dash through the palace, Aang's vision had narrowed. Katara's retreating form, her whipping hair and the trailing strips of the her skirt had become crystal clear. Everything else, the tapestries he careened into as he slipped on the floor trying to turn a corner, the paper lanterns swinging in the breeze, the petals that rained on them as they flew under a blossoming fruit tree were all a blur. The only thing that remained was her.

His prize in sight, Aang lunged forward and trapped Katara, one hand planted firmly on the wall on each side of her. When she tried to duck and escape to the door of their apartment beneath his arm, he pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the wall.

"I think you've got something of mine," he purred into her ear, meanwhile grasping wildly for her hands to reclaim the ball.

"I can't imagine what you mean," she teased back. Finally deciding on a place he surely wouldn't be able to reach, she whipped both hands around his ribs and clutched them together over the ball. The game suddenly forgotten, Aang dropped his hands to cup her face and kissed her. Aang was rewarded by Katara's enthusiastic response, and her crushing grip around his ribs was released, the ball falling to his feet and rolling down the corridor. Sliding her hands over his chest, she twined her arms instead around his neck and opened her mouth to accept his tongue.

Breathing heavily, Aang slid his hands down her sides, and then scooped his hands under her thighs, raising her and pressing her back flat to the wall. The tips of his mead-sensitized fingers had slid under the edge of the her skirt as he had lifted her, and he realized that she was wearing nothing under the dress. His kisses became frenzied, kissing her chin and shoulder. Katara could feel his arousal grow between them, hard and hot, as she pulled him tighter against herself and kissed the side of his neck.

Groaning and struggling to reign himself in, Aang returned to her mouth with another deep kiss, drawing away slowly with her lower lip gently pressed between his teeth. "We can't . . . we have to stop." Katara groaned in disappointment and rocked her hips against him, sending waves of pleasure through his body.

"I know, I don't want to either, but we can't . . . not like this." Aang returned her feet to the floor and slowly slid his hands up her sides, gently kissing her mouth and face to sofzen his meaning. "I want more than just this . . ." Katara pressed her face into his neck and kissed the base of his throat. "I want a lifetime with you, not just one night. This can't be how we start our life together." He raised her face to his so that moonlight from the intersecting hallway filled her eyes, "I love you too much for that, and your honor means more to me than just a single night of passion." Aang could feel her heart throbbing next to his, nearly in sync. "Will you wait until I can do this for you the right way?"

Katara pressed her eyes shut, and a single tear escaped. He brushed it away with his thumb and kissed her softly. When she opened her eyes again and looked at him, she smiled a little sadly and nodded. "At least come to bed and sleep next to me."

Aang laughed huskily and leaned back from her. "I don't think I have a choice! That must have been Zuko's intention all along when he gave us the apartment—the other room is an office!"

Aang had been worried that this would be a problem earlier in the afternoon. He had peeked into the adjoining room while Mai and Ty Lee had been dressing Katara and was surprised to find a heavy lacquered desk and walls of books and manuscripts, but no bed. In the excitement of the evening, he'd completely forgotten to address the oversight with Zuko. He realized now that there _was_ no oversight. The apartment had been decorated _specifically_ for them with precisely what Zuko thought they needed—Zuko was nothing if not intentional.

Katara laughed, and the sound was sweet in his ears. Aang leaned back in and kissed her gently, resting his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry. I'll make this right."

Katara smiled again and pressed her arms around him. "I know. It's late. Come to bed."

"I'll be there in a moment." Aang watched as she glanced lingeringly behind her and then closed the door. He slammed his palm into the wall in front of him in frustration, leaving a crack running from floor to ceiling.

"That wall has stood intact for nearly 600 years. Who knew the unsatisfied lust of the Avatar could be the cause of so much damage." Aang snapped to attention and turned to see Zuko lounging in the shadows next to the door to his own apartment. Zuko extended the hand in which he carried Aang's summer robes, dropped and forgotten in a corridor during his pell-mell chase of Katara through the palace. Embarassed, he accepted the robes with a nod.

"You know, it would be much simpler if you would just propose."

Aang regarded Zuko for a moment. "I wish that it really was that simple."

When Aang came to bed, Katara had already changed into the modest clothing she normally wore to sleep in. He crawled under the cool sheets and allowed her to snuggle back into his chest while he wrapped trembling arms around her. He planted one last kiss on her shoulder and laid his head on the pillow. It took some time to fall sleep, but when he awoke next to her, he felt like a new man.


	7. CH 7: Reunion

I own no part of Avatar: Fanfiction only.

Reunion

Katara had found through experience that the people she met were much friendlier when she made an effort to wear the traditional clothing of the realm. After breakfast, she changed into a simple green linen trousers and a lighter green tunic with long, loose sleeves and black knotted frogs at the shoulder. Katara smiled as she cinched a wide yellow obi that had been a gift from a woman in another little village for delivering her baby. Aang had told the council of the Southern Water Tribe that he could only offer her a life of service, but what he had forgotten to mention was how much she enjoyed the serving.

"Aang," Katara called out of the tent as she shouldered her bag of herbs and water skin, "how many babies do you think I've delivered?"

Aang looked up from tamping down the fire and laughed. "I don't know Katara—it seems like every village or little town we go to, you deliver at least one! It's like they wait for the Lady Katara." Aang smiled sweetly and drew her to him as she approached. "I know I would."

Katara blushed and kissed him on her way to Appa. After years of practice, Katara had finally gotten the hang of grabbing the loop that laid just in front of Appa's saddle with enough momentum to swing herself up. "I was trying to count this morning, and I think that I've delivered 15 this month already. I was making a list of the herbs that I use the most so that I can be certain to gather the medicines I need while we travel. I realized that I spend more time delivering babies than healing wounds." She beamed down at him from where she crouched in the saddle. "It's a nice change. For so long, it was burns, broken bones, wounds from arrows and spears. Now it's babies." She fell back against the back of the saddle and spread her arms along the edge. "Peace is good."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

By early afternoon, it looked like the magistrate and merchants had come to an accord, and that several days before Aang had expected. The village boasted a small tea house, a rare extravagance in this part of the Earth Kingdom, and they had decided to seal the deal over tea and noodles. Aang allowed his mind to wander, and their talk of business washed over him without his notice. Leaning back against a cushion, Aang contentedly watched Katara over the lip of his steaming cup as she played a skipping game with some children in the square. She was right; peace was good. Truly, his help hadn't really been needed here. There wasn't really anything he had done that the town and the merchants couldn't have worked out on their own. Perhaps there were more useful ways for him to spend his time.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Years of mind-numbing meetings had taught Aang that when silence settled around him, it usually indicated that someone had asked him a question and they were likely waiting with varying degrees of patience for him to return to the matter at hand.

The men's eyes travelled slyly from Aang to Katara in the square. They had discerned the cause for his distraction. Smiling, the magistrate replied, "I said that she is a rare stone, that one." He nodded his head at Katara. "Healing advice from the Lady Katara is traded like edicts from the spirits between the women here, and having had the Lady's hands deliver your child is quite the mark of honor."

Aang smiled with pride, watching Katara demonstrating a new pattern of footwork for the children. "I am very fortunate to have her." Taking a deep breath and returning his full attention to the men at the table, Aang announced, "Gentlemen, I think my work here is done. It has been a pleasure getting to know you both. Good luck."

Aang stood through the pleasantries, well wishes, and invitations for return and strode through the square. "Can I give it a try?"

Katara and the children looked up in delight. No matter where they went, Aang was instantly recognizable for his distinctive tattoos and air bending clothes, and children always flocked to him. He delighted in telling them stories and playing games with them. Katara delighted in watching him do it.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Aang helped Katara to refold the tapestry that she had used to cover the top of the tent as they finished packing.

"Did I mention that we received a hawk from Iroh this morning?"

Katara laughed. "No, but I smelled it brewing in my cup this morning!"

Grinning, Aang replied, "This one was different. It came with a note."

This brought Katara up short. Iroh rarely wrote, and when he did, it was for good reason.

"He asked us to head to the Eastern Air Temple . . . maybe Guru Pathik is back!" Aang had consistently visited the Eastern Air Temple several times a year since he had left the Guru after his spiritual training, but every time, the Guru was gone. "It's funny, though . . . that hawk coming when it did. You know, in ancient times, we would have been married at the Eastern Air Temple."

"Really?" Katara had stopped what she was doing to watch Aang more closely; his eyes had drifted away again, but this time, she knew he was seeing the temple and the surrounding mountain peaks shrouded in mist.

"Mmmm hmmm . . . you were asking about the wedding customs of air benders . . . the fact is, I never saw an air bender wedding. Marriage was discussed as a sacred bond and a duty to our people, but it wasn't described in much detail." Aang grinned. "It didn't really come up much. I don't think it would have held the attention of boys our age and it really wasn't essential to our training or spiritual formation. Marriage wouldn't come up unless one of the younger boys noticed one of their favorite Brothers was suddenly gone, and it was explained that he had gone to the Eastern Air Temple to be married. The older boy would return in six months or so, and thereafter would periodically travel from time to time to visit his wife, but life would continue at the same placid pace as before." Grinning wider, Aang finished, "I imagine that it was discussed in far more detail with the older acolytes."

Katara finished tying the last of the lashings around the pelt that contained her dowry. She stood and draped her arms around Aang's shoulders. "I certainly hope some explanation was given to them," she laughed. "I imagine married life would come as quite a shock to young men only used to the company of other men!"

Accepting her kiss with a smile, Aang replied, "There certainly were few opportunities to learn the ways of women at the temple. I'm deeply grateful I didn't have to have _that_ conversation with Monk Gyatso! I think I would have died in shame first!" Aang settled his clasped hands in the small of Katara's back and pulled her closer. "I guess I'll just have to figure it out on my own."

Katara snorted. "I imagine you'll work it out. Sokka will be at the wedding in case you get confused and need pointers . . ." Narrowing her eyes and dropping her voice to try to make it gravelly, she leaned into his face. " . . . and Zuko will be there to ensure that his blood debt is satisfied."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Three days later, Appa set his paws gratefully down in the Eastern Air Temple. Katara had enjoyed the trip seated behind Aang on Appa's head, her head resting on his shoulder and her arms around his waist, their fingers entwined. He told her ancient air bending stories as they flew. Tales of great battles and air benders both victorious and fallen, spirit myths, bits and pieces of the histories he had to learn by rote as a child, and stories from his childhood. Some of them she had heard before, but she enjoyed the joy in his voice in the retelling as much as she did the stories. At night around the fire, he even taught her some songs he remembered the boys used to sing while attending to their chores. Only once before had she heard Aang speak with such enthusiasm about his childhood, and that was on her first trip to the Southern Air Temple, before he was utterly crushed by the reality of the Air Bender Genocide when they found Monk Gyatso's remains. She hoped that he wouldn't be crushed again—it would be too cruel.

Aang hadn't returned to the Southern Air Temple since the day they had returned with Sokka and Zuko to bury the remains of Gyatso and the other monks. Zuko had removed the remains of the fallen Fire Nation soldiers and burned them away from the temple; he had returned to the temple in a rage and had spoken little for the remainder of the trip. Aang had been so prostrate with grief after clearing the Southern Air Temple that she and Zuko had overseen the burials in the Eastern and Western Temples with the help of the elders in the Air Nomad settlements surrounding the temples. Katara didn't want Aang to have to see the bones of any more of his people, and Zuko felt personally responsible for the gross destruction of Aang's people.

Aang bent away Appa's saddle and Appa immediately took off again. The Eastern Air Temple perched atop three mountain peaks and a soft mist often shrouded the shoulders of the mountains which were thickly forested. The rich plant life below the temple provided more than adequate cover to hide the herds of air bison that were once tended by the women of the temple as well as a rich smorgasbord of air bison delicacies.

Katara noticed that Aang had become quieter as they had approached, and he now stood on a broad balcony that cantilevered over the side of the mountain, gazing up at the empty temple.

"I know it's foolish, but somehow I always hope that the next time I return, it will be the same as I remember it. The silence is shocking—profane. This is where we celebrated the Spring Festival, and when we arrived from the south, this place was always swirling with color and joy." Aang turned and smiled sadly at Katara. "This is where we learned to dance and where we would come to be married.

"The veil between the spirit world and ours is very thin in this place, and the trees never stop blooming here; they even carry fruit and blossoms at the same time, an impossibility anywhere else in the world. There are plants and fruits that are known nowhere else in the world, and some of them have strange and wondrous properties. There are groves on the slopes below," Aang gestured with his staff, "where even in deep winter, springs bubble from the earth, and sky orchids sway in warm gentle breezes, even if a blizzard wails only a breath away. There are caverns deep in the mountains where shafts of golden light shine through from cracks in the earth, but no matter how deep you dig, you will never find the source. In my mind and in my heart, in this place, it is eternally spring."

Katara wrapped her arms around his chest and rested her chin on his shoulder. "You won't always be the last air bender—you have to know that." She squeezed him and l lifted herself on her toes to kiss his cheek when he turned his face towards her. "There will be little girls dancing here again someday."

Aang turned in her embrace and held her close. Pressing his words into her hair, he answered, "That would answer every prayer I have ever whispered to the spirits, and some I didn't dare allow to escape my heart. Come."

Aang took Katara's hand and led her through the golden light and warm shadows of the temple. Katara was always awed on these visits to the air temples, at the vaulted ceilings that reached 40 to 50 feet far above them, at the delicate patterns worked into the terra cotta tiles below her feet. Occasionally they would pass a room where a wind chime still clung to the bison wool threads that bound it and the music of the chimes would follow them through the still air for several rooms. Motes shimmered like gold in air disturbed by their passage, and their steps echoed back to them. Even though Aang carefully swept air through the temple on each visit, leaves and branches would blow in through every window in their absence, settling into corners and contributing to the general ancient, unkempt feeling of the temple. Even so, the place felt expectant—more as though it waited patiently than as though it had been abandoned.

Eventually, he led them towards the vast library that was the heart of the central temple. Even though the library opened to an oculus that permitted a spot of light to take the same path across the mosaic floor every day, Aang had once told her that the ceiling was so high that any rain that might have fallen through the oculus never made it to the floor. As they neared the library, Katara noticed a rich floral fragrance that was growing stronger as they approached.

"What is that scent?" Katara took a deep breath, drawing the tendrils of fragrant smoke in.

"Don't breathe too deeply," Aang cautioned her. "Whoever is meeting us is burning sky orchid incense. It sneaks up on you, and by the time you realize what it is, you have breathed in enough for it to start taking effect."

"Is it dangerous?"

Aang glanced at her over his shoulder. "No . . . it's not dangerous as such, but it brings dreams even while you are awake. When advanced acolytes were ready for their final spiritual training, they came here to train. Meditating while breathing in the sky orchid incense can allow you to more easily cross into the spirit world if you have the skill; even those without the talent for crossing over can usually glimpse the spirits, as though through a looking glass. It is used in some of our most sacred rituals, such as when air benders receive their tattoos. The pellets of incense can also be crushed and mixed into a drink to make a medicine that will take away pain and can even take away or soften bad memories. The leaves of the sky orchid can be brewed into tea to treat small hurts.

"I can't believe that there is anyone still who knows how the incense is made—I read once that one of the Great Ladies had been dispatched to the eastern part of the temple during the Fire Nation attacks to destroy the stock of incense. Their stock of incense was never found, and the secret of making it was lost. The ancient air benders had discovered that the incense could be used to brainwash someone into believing something that was untrue during a waking dream. They were afraid that if the Fire Nation were to seize the knowledge of making the incense, they could poison the hearts and minds of the people they conquered to believe almost anything, and maybe even control people."

"It sounds like powerful stuff. Do _you_ know how to make it?"

Aang crinkled his nose, thinking. "Yes and no. I came across a text in the Western Air Temple that talked about it—that's where we went to receive our tattoos. The ink is made from the sky orchid petals and has some of the same properties, which is probably what makes the hours of tattooing bearable even for children. The incense is made from grinding the seeds of the orchid into a fine powder, binding it with the thick sap that comes from the stamen, and then drying it over a fire-it's a lot of work to create even a single small pellet of the incense."

Reaching the door of the library, Aang pressed her back against the wall with one hand while slowly easing the wooden door open with the other. He didn't want to admit it, but he was both excited and nervous by the presence of the incense. Was he being welcomed by a friend with a relic of his childhood or was someone hoping to deceive him with the fragrant smoke? Aang released her to bend the fragrant smoke from the corridor out through a nearby window, and he felt his head clear immediately.

"Oh!"

"Do you feel the difference now that you aren't breathing the incense?" Katara nodded, but looked concerned. She uncorked her water skin and drew out a ribbon of water. "The summons came from Iroh, and I know he would never intentionally lead us into danger, but let's be careful."

Aang eased the door open to find a small, wizened man seated behind a small brazier with a single pellet of incense set into a spike over smoldering coals. The man was meditating in the same full lotus position he himself used, and his tattoos were . . . glowing.

"That's . . . impossible . . ." Aang whispered. Aang stood over the man, trying to decide what to do, while Katara cleared the rest of the library, silently running between rows of shelves to ensure that it truly was empty.

"There's definitely no one else here. What do you want to do? Should we wait for him to return?"

"No . . . I think that it's his intention for at least one of us to come to him in the spirit world. The incense may actually be for your benefit—so that you can enter the spirit world as well."

"There's no way I'm leaving you unguarded while you enter the spirit world. I don't know who he is, but he shouldn't be here, and there's no knowing who else is in the temple that we don't see. I will stay here."

Aang nodded. "Be careful to stay away from the incense—if you are overcome by the smoke, you could slip into the spirit world alone and I won't know where to look for you to guide you back out. This should help." He drew off his obi and tied it around her nose and mouth. The sweet fragrance was replaced by his own scent. "It's possible he needs the incense to travel as well, so don't let it go out. If his path is lost, I don't know if I will be able to reconnect his soul with his body." Aang pulled her close and kissed a temple. "Stay safe and don't let anyone come through that door."

Aang sat down across the brazier from the other monk and braced his fists against one another. Within two breaths, he had followed the trail of incense into the spirit world. When he opened his eyes, he was faced with a young monk that looked very much like himself—it was truly as though he gazed into a mirror and saw a slightly older version of himself looking back. They sat within the clearing of a grove of trees that swayed gently with the breeze. The light was soft and golden, and filled with the humming of some kind of spirit insect.

"Welcome, brother. I am Monk Tsering, and I am most grateful you have come. I have waited almost 100 years to see you. Now that you have returned, my life's work is nearly complete."

"Thank you, Brother. Why have you been waiting for me all this time?"

"Long ago, when you were lost to the ice, it was the sole hope of Monk Gyatso's few remaining days that someone should guard the ancient knowledge of the Air Temples and to wait in hope for your return. Although it was his greatest sorrow that you were lost, he was deeply grateful that you were not here when word of the Fire Nation's approach arrived at the temple. He immediately dispatched the three fastest fliers to the other temples to warn them of the attack. I was sent to the Eastern Air Temple to warn the White Lotus that death came for us in flame."

"Who is the White Lotus?"

"Aaah, the White Lotus. She was the Great Lady and mistress of the Eastern Air Temple, and the most learned of all air benders in the ways of the spirits . . . do you not remember her?"

Aang thought hard. "I remember a very tall woman with the most incredibly white skin who moved so gracefully when she walked that we all believed she floated. I remember she was very beautiful. Once when we were at the temple for the Spring Festival, she held me on her lap while she told a story to all of us. She allowed me to play with the wooden beads around her neck, and she kissed the crown of my head before she sent us to choose our air bison. I remember now . . . she was telling us about how the first air benders learned to bend by watching the bison, and how once a bison chose us, it would be our inseparable companion for life."

"Yes. That was the White Lotus. I was here that day—Monk Gyatso had sent me personally to escort you and the other boys to choose their bison. Do you remember that one boy and his bison fell behind and we had to return to find them in a grove of singing cypress?"

Aang laughed. "I do remember you now. You had just received your tattoos and you were very serious."

Tsering nodded. "I was proud that Monk Gyatso had chosen me for the task. Gyatso was particularly proud of my skill with a glider—he had taught me to fly himself. Although I left the Southern Air Temple the very moment we learned of the Fire Nation's intent to attack, it still took me four days to fly here. I did not stop to eat, and only slept an hour or two each day, but it did not matter. By the time I arrived, most of the strongest women in the temple had already been slaughtered by the Fire Nation, and the White Lotus herself was fighting off a legion of Fire Benders with only the help of a handful of acolytes with blow darts and girls who could barely hold an air scooter steady. I know now that she had been waiting for me because as soon as I landed, she withdrew from the battle and demanded that what remained of her brave women retreat into the inner sanctum of the easternmost tower.

"In that place, she performed a miracle that I had thought was only a myth. She soul-bound me to the flame of the sky orchid."

Aang frowned. "That's not possible."

"As I said, it was a miracle that was a myth. Or it was simply a gift of the spirits. She placed in my hand a leather pouch that she said contained the most precious treasure of the Eastern Air Temple and she charged me with the duty of delivering it to the Avatar himself."

"What was in the leather pouch?"

"Have you noticed, Young Avatar, that the libraries of the air temples are all empty?"

Aang leaned forward. "Yes! Katara and I noticed that even though all of the air temple libraries are empty, there is no evidence of burning or looting. No scorch marks on the walls, no shelves pushed down or broken, no strewn pages, nothing. There is simply nothing! All the knowledge and teachings of hundreds of years of air benders is simply gone. We have looked everywhere—we spent weeks testing walls, looking for hidden doors. It's all gone."

"Our people had been watching Sozin for decades as he built his army. When Avatar Roku was left behind to be murdered by the volcano, we began preparing for the day on which the Fire Nation would attack. We started by emptying our libraries. For ten years, we watched Sozin begin to mobilize, and finally, the White Lotus asked her closest companions of every nation to come to the Eastern Air Temple. She charged them to take the Avatar into their custody so that they could hide him and train him until he was ready to face Sozin. She summoned a master Fire Bender who had once begged for her hand in marriage, a master Earth Bender of the royal family who had been her close friend as a child, a master Water Bender who had once saved her life, and the master swordsman who had been her guardian and companion when she was training as an acolyte. After a passionate plea by Monk Gyatso, it was decided that the Avatar's father himself would bring him to the White Lotus to complete his training."

"That's not possible. I never knew my father."

Monk Tsering subtly tilted his head and smiled. "Your father watched over you all the days of your young life. He bathed you and taught you to write, how to cheat at pai sho, and you inherited his unparalleled skill with a glider. He also taught you to make fruit tarts, but you really shouldn't have tossed them at the other monks!" Tsering's eyes crinkled with mirth. "Gyatso's sense of humor was inherited by all five of his sons, and at particular ages, they were one after another all the bane of the Southern Air Temple!"

"But that means that . . ."

"That's right, Aang. You are the youngest son of the Monk Gyatso and the White Lotus, the great lady of the Eastern Air Temple. I was only fifteen when he sent his son to warn his wife. Of all our brothers, I alone was not an air bender, but I was the fastest flyer in the temple, and Gyatso knew that only the call of the spirits would prevent me from reaching our mother. I was the only Air Acolyte to ever receive his tattoos without mastering air bending; my talent was far rarer. I was able to enter the spirit world at will and commune fully with the spirits, even without the aid of the sky orchid incense." Tsering's eyes crinkled again. "That's why _I_ was our _mother's_ favorite!"

"Monk Gyatso hoped even until his last breath that you were secreted away somewhere—that you alone would survive the murder of our people. He knew that there was no possibility that we could withstand the onslaught of the Fire Nation, and all three of our brothers perished by his side in the south."

Overwhelmed, Aang cradled his head in his hands and watched the smoke twist away from the brazier between them. "Tsering . . . what was in the pouch?"

"In that pouch was the legacy of our mother, and it contains her greatest hope for her people, the entirety of her love for us, and her only gift to her youngest son. The pouch contains the instructions to find the hidden libraries of all four air temples, a box with over five thousand sky orchid pellets, and a scroll that explains the most sacred rite of marriage as practiced in the Eastern Air Temple. It contains everything you will need to rebuild the entire culture of the air benders and to ensure that you will not be the last air bender."

Aang sprang to his feet, dragging Tsering with him, and clasped him in a crushing embrace.

"Aang . . . it was for this purpose, and this purpose alone that I have remained in this place, bound to the flame of the sky orchid. It is the greatest joy and relief of all my days to finally have met you and to finally pass this duty and burden to you. It fills my heart with hope to see you so young and so strong, and to know that your beautiful Lady will stand by your side always." Tsering placed his palm against Aang's cheek. "My soul will rest easy knowing that the future of our people rests in your hands now, and that I can finally ride the wind with our ancestors." Tsering kissed Aang on his forehead, and hugged him tightly. "Go in peace, my brother, and live in love."

With these parting words, the soul of Monk Tsering was freed from its bondage and was swept away into the wilds of the spirit world by the breeze and golden light.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The moment Aang passed into the spirit world, they had appeared. It was as if they had been there all along, shadows hiding in plain sight between the dust motes dancing on the rarified air. She closed her eyes for the barest fraction of a second, and when she opened them again, was surrounded. Thirty shades, the height and breadth of a man ranged around her, vibrating, shimmering in the afternoon sun, as though they devoured the light itself. They hadn't been hiding; she had checked everywhere! Every shadow, every corner, beneath every table, kicked over every chair, checked in every shelf. She would never have allowed him to enter the spirit world if she had thought she couldn't protect him, yet Aang's departure had clearly been what they were waiting for.

Knowing that the water in her water skin would never be sufficient to create a barrier between the shades and them, Katara drew water from the cypresses that lined the mountain. So frenzied was her call for the water, that she heard the trees groan and snap as they yielded their life for her. The water poured in through the tall open windows and through the oculus above, crashing against the sills and dragging loose stone and debris with it. She heard the massive blocks of stones scrape upon one another as they were pounded by the onslaught and they twisted away from their neighbors, pushed by the flood that Katara called in an instant to her aid. She bent the flood into a dome, three feet thick and surrounding them as tightly as she dared. With final swipe of her arm, she froze it, creating a fortress around them. Noticing the sweet fragrance of the incense as it began to pool near the top of the dome, Katara hoped that Aang would emerge from the spirit world before she was overcome by the incense.

Becoming drowsy, she sank to her knees behind Aang, pressing her back to his. The golden light outside her ice fortress caused the ice to glow a soft green. As the minutes stretched before her, Katara realized that the light around her was winking out and the ice itself darkening—the shades were clearly undeterred by ice. Katara uncorked her water skin and bent the water within into ice-tipped tentacles around herself, and she waited, crouched behind Aang.

Finally the shades emerged, but their form was now clear. In her shock, Katara nearly lost control of the tentacles that swarmed menacingly around her. Katara realized what the shades must be . . . they were the spirits of the ancient air benders who had defended this temple to their very last breaths. Katara also realized that she had done precisely as Aang had warned her to avoid. She had fully succumbed to the incense, but had not yet crossed over into the spirit world. She had to breathe!

Realizing that there was no amount of water bending that was going to stop the spirits of the lost air benders, Katara dropped the tentacles in a flood on the terra cotta floor. She slammed the fortress of ice back against the walls and shelves of the library to shatter, splintering ice and furniture indiscriminately. She drug Aang's obi away from her face and gasped for breath. Fresh air washed over her, but the incense had already done its work—she had pierced the veil between the spirit world and her own and was completely at the mercy of the spirits. Katara reached her hands behind her to wrap them around Aang's narrow chest. She pressed her back against his, but would retreat no farther. She certainly would never leave him. They would have to go through her to reach him, but she desperately hoped they wouldn't.

The figure of a very tall woman stepped before her. Her face had fine bones and her hairline had been shaved back to the crown of her head to reveal more of her air bending tattoo. From within her sleeve, she produced an ancient scroll, tied with a red twisted silk cord and sealed with saffron wax. She kneeled before Katara and stroked a hand down Katara's arm, and a glowing warmth spread from her touch. She drew Katara's hand into her own so that she could place the scroll into Katara's hand. Then the Lady cradled Katara's face between her own soft hands.

While they touched, Katara felt waves of love pressed into her from the woman's fingertips and palms, at first a glowing warmth accompanied a slow trickle of affection and it increased until a tidal wave of passionate mother-love washed over Katara, bathing her in its honied richness. It gathered in her chest and flowed through her veins to the tips of her fingers, it tingled at the edges of her ears, and she felt it sharply along the bottom of her ribs. It spread into her womb and into her legs, all the way to the soles of her feet. Tears gathered on Katara's lashes and spilled down her cheeks, but she did not know if she wept in love or in longing, or if the love and longing were hers belonged to the woman whose love she basked in. A lifetime of longing and hopes and dreams were felt and shared in the moments of her caress, and in the woman's eyes, she saw thousands of faces reflected, flowing like a river, until they stopped upon the face of what surely must be her son. Katara felt the release of hope and joy that had been stifled and held in expectation for a century wash over her in waves, finally ebbing and leaving her in a state of euphoria.

Another woman stepped forward, pressing a large wooden cask into Katara's other hand. It was heavy and carried the fragrance of the sky orchid through the intricate carvings that pierced the box. A third woman knelt and slid a thin book between the overlapping face of Katara's gi.

The tall woman gathered Katara into her arms, and Katara was powerless to stop her, so overcome with the emotions that washed over her like surf. The other women stepped forward and pressed their arms around Aang and Katara. As they pressed closer, the tall woman whispered into her ear, "Goodbye, my sweet daughter-to-be; love my son well." And Katara was lost to the light and the warmth and the dust motes, twinkling gold as the White Lotus took her final leave of the Eastern Air Temple.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

When Aang returned to his body, he was shocked at the devastation that was sprawled around him. He sat as though at the center of a great explosion. The ancient tables, chairs, and shelves had been blasted into splinters, and he sat in a full two inches of water. The walls, though made of stone, now bore deep gashes that he could only assume were the result of Katara battling with ice. The wizened form of his brother was gone, as though it had never been there, and the coals of the brazier had grown cold and extinguished. Panicked, his eyes darted through the room, but one hand fell almost immediately upon Katara's shoulder where she had fallen next to him.

Aang gathered Katara into his arms. She was glowing—not with the cold blue glow he associated with his own spirit travels, but with a warmth and light that was receding even as he held her. When he pressed her close, he felt the edges of a book press into his chest and heard the rustling and crumpling of stiff parchment. Looking down, he an ancient scroll clutched to her chest with one hand, and an ornately carved wooden box clutched to her waist, her grip on each so tight, it was as though she held on to them for dear life.

When he called her name, she eventually opened her eyes and gazed at him as though drunk. She smiled sweetly and sighed, "Your mother sends her love," before nuzzling into his neck and falling asleep against his shoulder.


	8. CH 8: The White Lotus

I own no part of Avatar: Fanfiction only.

The White Lotus

When Katara awoke several hours later in the soft gray of dawn, it was to exquisite warmth and a sense of general well-being and happiness. She drank in Aang's scent as she burrowed deeper in to the hollow of his shoulder. Stretching, she pressed the length of her body against his side but stopped almost immediately . . . no wonder she was so comfortable. She could tell by the hitch in his breath that he was now awake as well.

She slowly relaxed back against him, allowing her fingers to travel from where they rested on his chest down the now tense muscles of his belly to his bare hip pressed against hers. She cracked open one eye to find him looking back at her, with anxious expectation, bottom lip clenched between his teeth.

"Good morning," he offered quietly, squeezing her gently.

"Uhh . . . Aang?"

"Unh huh . . . ?"

"I seem to be—"

"Um, about that . . . when I came back, you were laying in a couple of inches of water and we were both completely drenched. I'm not sure what happened to you, but you never really woke up, the library was blasted to bits, and you kept talking about my mother . . ." Aang laughed nervously. He rolled to his side and gathered her against him, enjoying her gasp of surprise as their skin met and he looped his bare leg over hers. Seeking her mouth for a gentle, lingering kiss, he continued softly, "By the time I brought you here and had settled in for the night, I decided it was easiest to just put you in bed and risk your temper in the morning." He leaned in for another kiss. "I hope you don't mind."

When Katara disentangled her arms and wrapped them around his neck and shoulders, she pressed the length of her body against his, pulling him into a deeper kiss and was rewarded with a hum of pleasure that she felt vibrate through his chest. She trailed her finger tips down the course of his spine, causing him to arch his back and start to harden against the inside of her thigh. Aang pressed his eyes shut in bliss as Katara's hands continued to explore lower and her kisses trailed along the edge of his chin, down his throat, and followed the length of his collarbone to his shoulder. Aang slid one hand up her back to her neck to guide her mouth back to his. After another deep kiss, he groaned.

"You have to stop . . ." Aang paused and drew a quick breath as Katara's fingertips trailed over a particularly sensitive spot on his skin, " . . . or I'm not going to be able to wait . . ." another deep breath ". . . until our wedding to make you my wife."

Katara purred in response, a sound of mingled disappointment and contentment. She settled back into his shoulder but continued to hold him against her, enjoying both the heat that was pouring from his body and his growing arousal.

Aang whispered, his throat thick, "Are you happy?"

Katara turned her face into his chest to hide her smile and squeezed him around the ribs. "Very."

"You don't mind about the clothes?"

"No." Katara sighed. "But it's making it harder and harder to wait. I'm not going to be able to settle into sleep this evening unless I'm next to you." She propped herself up over him, and his heart contracted at the sight, the growing light catching in her tousled hair and following the curves of her body.

Aang wrapped his arms around her and rolled, exchanging their positions so that he now leaned over her, propped on an elbow and her head nestled into the crook of his arm. He stroked her face, following the curve of her cheek with his thumb, and bent to kiss her. "Then I guess you're going to have to sleep next to me."

Katara sighed happily and regarded the ceiling over his shoulder. It was cerulean, with a pattern of stylized clouds painted in broad white strokes into the chipping fresco. "Where are we?"

Aang smiled, watching the path of his own fingers as he trailed them over the contours of her neck and around the hollow at the base. "I remembered this part of the temple from exploring it on previous occasions. We are in the western part of the temple . . . I think that this must have been the part of the temple that was reserved for married couples. Rather than having sets of rooms that share common spaces like the rest of the temple, these are like individual living quarters, with multiple rooms grouped together. There's more furniture here, and it seems to have been built for comfort. Even if we weren't betrothed, I would have brought you here." His fingertip slowly followed the arc of her clavicle. "These are the only rooms I've ever seen in an Air Temple that latch with a locking pin. Life in the temples was monastic, and everything was shared in common. There was no need for locks on doors to protect privacy or personal property. Since I could secure the door, it's the only place I would have felt safe bringing you to sleep with all that has happened since we've been here." Aang dipped his head to plant a row of lingering kisses in the hollow beneath Katara's clavicle, following its shape.

Katara closed her eyes and sighed, almost dizzy with the pleasure of Aang's touch. She lazily stroked her fingers down the back of his neck, pausing to knead muscles knotted with tension. When he quietly sighed with pleasure as she found a particularly sore spot, she increased the pressure and continued kneading. "Who was waiting for you in the spirit world?"

Aang leaned back and propped his head on his hand. "It was my brother, Monk Tsering."

"Brother . . . do you mean Brother like monk or _brother?_ " Katara sat up and pulled the embroidered coverlet from her dowry higher to cover herself.

Aang leaned back against the pillows and allowed his fingers to wander up Katara's spine absently. " _Brother_. I learned things about myself in those few minutes in the spirit world that I have wondered about my entire life. I remember Tsering being at the Southern Air Temple with me . . . he had been the acolyte that took my group of Brothers to the Eastern Air Temple to choose our air bison. He told me that we had 3 other brothers as well, and he knew who our parents were." Aang's eyes dropped to the coverlet where he twisted it between the fingers. "It turns out that my mother was the mistress of the Eastern Air Temple . . . she was called the White Lotus. My father . . ." Aang stopped to clear his throat, suddenly thick with emotion, "my father was the Monk Gyatso."

Aang turned away from Katara and swung his legs over the edge the the rope bed. He rested his elbows on his knees and allowed his head to hang nearly to his clasped hands. "I was so devastated that they were going to take me away from him that I didn't stay long enough to hear the end of their conversation. He had demanded that he himself would be taking me to the Eastern Air Temple. My mother had assembled a group of master benders and a master swordsman from the other nations, and they were waiting to take me to train in safety and secret so I could prepare to face Sozin. When I ran away, I lost the only opportunity I ever had of being surrounded by my own family. It was hard enough to bear that I left Monk Gyatso when I was so small and scared. It's almost too much to bear to know that I didn't leave my friend; now I know that I left my father."

Katara slid across the feather tick to wrap her arms around Aang. She kissed the back of his shoulder and laid her cheek against it. "You couldn't have known. You were so young and they were asking more of you than any child should have had to bear." Leaving one arm wrapped around his waist, the trailed two fingers down the outside edges of his tattoo between his shoulder blades and down to his waist. "I think we _all_ asked too much of you. By the time we reached the Fire Nation to attempt the invasion, you carried a man's burden in a child's body. You'd already come so close to being broken and had nearly died more times than I can count. After the war, you spent every waking moment trying to create peace in a world that hadn't seen it for at least three generations. I don't know what kept you going."

Aang turned his head into his shoulder so he could just see Katara from the corner of his eye. "You did. It was always you. When I was too tired and hurt to keep going, you carried me through the worst of it. I had been raised to know that my duty was to the whole of humanity, that the meaning of my life was to be the bridge between the spirits and our world, but that's pretty abstract. By the time I flew off to face Ozai, fulfilling my duty was only a part of the reason that I confronted him." Aang turned his face away so she couldn't see his expression. "I know I was so young, but I was so in love with you. Somehow in my mind or my heart, or maybe both, I thought that maybe if I could just get past Ozai, I would be able to find a way to make you love me too."

Katara rolled her head so that her forehead rested against Aang's shoulder blade so that she could see the slope of his back. With feather light touch, she traced the twisted ropes of scars that spread across the center of his back. "Does it hurt when I touch you here?"

"Not anymore. For a while, even the weight of my robes was excruciating, but over time it has faded. I don't notice the difference anymore." After a pause, he asked, "Does it bother _you_ to touch me there?"

Katara sighed. "Not anymore. For the longest time, whenever I saw your back, all I could see was you falling. I had seen you dive through the air as though it was water, and I had seen you fall back to earth on a cushion of air. I had seen you run so fast you were a blur, propelled by the wind, even defying gravity to run straight up the wall at Ba Sing Se. But every move I ever saw you make was graceful, every step you ever placed on the earth as light as a whisper." He could hear her smile. "Even when you are standing at rest or sleeping, you always look like you are sculpted by the hands of a master. And by the spirits, when you go to battle . . . there aren't words to describe it. It is beautiful and terrifying—destruction and beauty, creation and wrath all at once.

"On that day, though, on _that_ day . . . you fell like a stone, as though the earth would swallow you, and I was sure you were dead. No air bender in all of time ever fell like that. I spent weeks knitting your flesh back together, and I was terrified you'd never wake." Katara spread her hand across his back, her palm pressed to the place where Azula's lightning had entered his back. "I was devastated that I couldn't protect you that day, and I hate that I was never able to put your tattoo back the way it had been. There's places where your flesh had been burned all the way down to the bone—where I could see your ribs and spine. When the skin knit together, the ink had been lost." Katara traced the paths his ribs took under soft skin. "All of the ribs on this side were broken, and the day after the battle, one of them punctured your lung. If I hadn't seen it happen before to a man who had been attacked by a tiger-walrus, I wouldn't have known what was wrong. You almost died that day too. In the end, all I cared about was that you kept breathing and you woke up. I had to accept that I had done my best and let go of my failure.

"It took me so long to see you, _really_ see you. I had spent so much of my childhood taking care of Sokka that at first, you seemed so fragile, like you needed someone to care for you in the same way. During that first year, you changed so much. It took a long time for me to realize that my feelings for you were starting to change, but I don't think it was until Zuko's wedding that I really realized that while I had always loved you, somehow I had really fallen _in_ love with you. I had become really good at finding all kinds of reasons I couldn't leave you, even when everyone else moved on. Since that time in the Fire Nation, though, it has been almost painful to not fall into your arms every time you look at me."

Katara sighed again and laid her cheek against his shoulder again. "Your heart beats outside your chest . . . it only takes a moment to look into your eyes and I can see everything you're feeling like it's written out on parchment. If Monk Gyatso loved you even a fraction as much as I do, he knew you were afraid and he knew how much you loved him. I know he forgave you. You need to forgive yourself."

She sat up straighter, resting her chin on his shoulder, and wrapped her arms around him again. "You are going to have to accept that you have always done your best . . . and let go of the few times when you have failed. You felt like his son in your heart, even before you knew were the son of his body. If you hadn't been caught in the storm, I know you would have gone back to accept your fate. That storm probably saved your life—if you had been caught at the Southern Air Temple with the rest of the Brothers, you would have died fighting to protect your home, and every last air bender would have been lost forever and the cycle of the Avatar would have been destroyed. What else did Tsering say?"

Aang laid back against the pillow again and recounted their conversation.

"What does it mean that he was bound to the flame of the sky orchid?"

"It's an ancient air bender skill that I had always believed was a myth. The ancient air benders taught that a person's _chi_ could be bent."

"Is that what Guru Pathic did to you?"

Aang shook his head briefly. "Guru Pathik was an Air Nomad to be sure, but not a bender. He taught me to unlock my chakras by working through my own conflicted emotions so that my chi could be freed and I could reach the Avatar state." Grinning, Aang continued, "Mostly, he we meditated a lot, he told me things I didn't really want to hear, and he made me drink gallons of banana-onion juice. He was trying to help me reconcile the flow of _my own_ chi. A chi _bender_ , though, would be able to control _another_ person's life force or spirit as it flows through their body. Kind of like how Iroh could channel the energy of lightning through his stomach or how a blood bender can control the blood within the body, but on a spiritual scale. Tsering told me that he received his tattoos for his mastery our _spiritual_ practices, not bending—maybe he was actually a chi bender."

"It sounds a lot like what you did to Ozai."

Aang looked out the window, thoughtful. "The lion-turtle didn't really give a name to what he taught me, but I suppose you're right. Maybe the best description of what I did _was_ chi bending. I basically found the part of his chi that was related to his bending, separated it from the rest of his life force, and drew it out. It makes sense that that kind of skill would have been cultivated by the ancient air benders. They valued all life, even a life as vile as Ozai's, and they would have found it repugnant to destroy even him. I can see chi bending being useful for all kinds of other purposes, though, like healing.

"In Tsering's case, his soul was bound to a very specific instance of another element. The White Lotus bound his soul to the flame of the sky orchid until he had completed the task she set for him. I think that means that whenever someone in our world lit sky orchid incense, his chi would be summoned."

"So who lit the incense?"

"I don't know. All I know is that when I returned, the library was destroyed and you were clutching these." Aang reached under the rope bed and pulled out the cask, book, and scroll. He hadn't had time to examine them closely the previous night, but he wanted to keep them within reach in case they had to leave in haste. "I assumed that Tsering must have given them to you before he returned to the spirit world. What happened in the library?"

Katara traced the pierced work of the box and smiled wistfully. "She was very beautiful, your mother. You get your height from her, I think."

Aang smiled and chuckled. "She _was_ beautiful, but you say that as if you knew her."

"I did _meet_ her." Katara explained what had happened in the few minutes in which Aang had been in the spirit world. "Aang, I think _she_ lit the incense."

Aang sat up and leaned against the cool stuccoed wall. "I don't see how she could have, unless . . . maybe the White Lotus, Tsering, and the last surviving acolytes did not die at all. Maybe they passed directly through the veil of the spirit world and took with them the things they believed I would need to rebuild our people."

"How did Iroh know to send us here, though?"

"Iroh is probably closer to communion with the spirit world than anyone else we know, so maybe she told him in a vision or a dream, but I think he would have come himself if that had been the case. I looked for the note last night when I was gathering our things, but it was gone. I remember folding it and placing it in the box with the tea. The tea was still there, but the note was gone."

"So . . . what do we do now? You are free for the moment—no one else has written demanding your presence?"

Aang could tell by the edge in Katara's voice that the constant demands for the Avatar's time was starting to wearing her nerves raw. He sympathized.

"You know, they really didn't need me to help with those trade negotiations. I think that I've worked so hard to be present to everyone that they have become too dependent on having the Avatar at their beck and call." Aang tipped his head back against the wall and followed the loops of the clouds on the ceiling. "I'm really tired, Katara. I haven't thought about anything but serving others my entire life. My entire childhood the virtues of personal detachment and universal love were impressed upon us with every word and action. For eight years, I've run to personally tend to every call for help, and more than once, people didn't really need my help, they just really needed to use some common sense. I'm afraid that if my entire life is going to be poured out for other people, I'm going to lose myself.

"I thought a lot about it while we travelled here. I think there's something more important for me to do that no one else can. I need to work on rebuilding the Air Nation—I think that's the real reason I was brought here."

"So what did your mother leave you?"

Aang smiled. "Leave _us_. She gave it to you, remember?" Aang reached out and pulled her closer so that her shoulder leaned against the cool wall and cradled her cheek in his large hand. "I think she intended this to be a quest for us to take together."

He drew the cask out of her hand and wafted it under her nose so that the aroma of the sky orchid pellets drifted up to her. "This must be the lost cache of sky orchid pellets that the great ladies of the temple secreted away during their final battle. I think that this book contains instructions for how to find the hidden libraries of the air temples. I'm itching to take the time to read it, but what I'm really curious about is the scroll. Believe it or not, I think that it is bound with a cord of silk made from lion-turtle mane—it has to be incredibly rare. Since it had a wax seal on it, I wanted to wait until you could open it with me." He offered to her. "I think she meant for you to open it."

Katara smiled. "Why? It's a sacred and ancient air bending scroll . . . why would your mother intend it for me?"

Aang flexed his back and shoulders against the wall and brought his hands up to rest behind his head. He traced the lines of the clouds painted into the plaster with his eyes, but Katara knew that he was seeing something far beyond the paint. "This place was sacred to my people, but its secrets were jealously guarded by female masters. We were always warmly welcomed, but we all knew that there were parts of the temple that were private and secret. This place, for example. It took me a couple of visits to finally work out why we were never allowed to come to the western part of the temple, and it was the door locks and wide beds that finally tipped me off. I'm not sure how the acolytes were chosen to come here and marry . . . now that I think about it, there wasn't really any pattern. Sometimes it would be a master bender in his thirties that suddenly left, sometimes a man as young as nineteen or twenty." Aang shrugged. "They would one day simply be gone."

Aang snaked his foot under the coverlet to playfully nudge Katara's knee and nodded in the direction of the scroll. "Those are secrets of the Eastern Air Temple, guarded by its women. You are going to be the wife of the last air bender . . . I think that in her mind, that effectively makes you the next White Lotus. You are the next Great Lady of the Eastern Air Temple." Aang smiled warmly at Katara. "I'm sure she hopes you will help fill the temple with little girls again."

Katara felt absurdly pleased, and she could feel a blush spreading across her skin. "So . . . you think I should open it?"

"I do."

Katara's hands shook a little as she carefully broke the wax seal that closed the parchment and peeled away the silk cord. She was touched that Aang felt that it was her place to take possession of what was clearly the most sacred objects he had ever touched from his people . . . it felt like a gift. The cord itself seemed precious, so she coiled it and placed it in the box with the sky orchid pellets. Carefully spreading the scroll on the coverlet in front of them, her hair swung forward and hid her disappointment with the elegant characters marching across the page. Most of the characters had a horizontal line near the top, and all of the characters were aligned along this horizontal axis, with dramatic arcs that swept under the characters and cloud-like swirls that peeled away from the top of some characters to the left. Katara reached out a finger to gently trace the path of one of the swirls.

"It's very beautiful, but I can't read it."

Aang leaned close over the parchment for a better look. "I imagine that there's only a few people who can read it—probably just myself and a few members of the Order of the White Lotus." Aang looked up and beamed a wide smile. He bumped his bare shoulder against hers, continuing, "That reminds me . . . I guess they belong to you now. 'Order of the White Lotus' . . . it wasn't so much a group as a pledge to the Great Lady of the Eastern Air Temple to protect and train the Avatar."

Katara snorted. "If they can keep you out of trouble, you are welcome to them with my solemn blessing." Returning to the scroll, she asked, "What does it say?"

Aang trailed his finger across the parchment, mumbling under his breath. At one point, he tipped his head and drew his brows together. "Huh . . ." When Katara asked again what it said, he raised a finger, silently asking for her patience while he continued to scan the parchment. She guessed from watching his eyes travel over the scroll that he was reading and re-reading it. After several minutes of careful study, Aang scrubbed his hands over his face and leaned back.

"OK . . . well, I know why she gave it to you instead of me, I know why we were summoned to the temple when we were, and I know what it is, but I'm not quite sure I understand _precisely_ what it says. It's an ancient text, probably hundreds of years old, and the dialect is a little bit weird. It's also written in a very poetic style . . . so it's kind of hard to tell what is poetry, what is a discussion of the spiritual teachings of the temple, and what is just practical instructions. I'm actually really grateful we have it."

Aang spread his palms flat over the parchment, opening it so that he could see the entire scroll at once. "This text explains the ancient air bender marriage rite . . . it hasn't been used for over a hundred years. There's a bit of pretty poetry here about the beauty and sanctity marriage . . . it talks about the binding of two souls for eternity so that they will be united both in this life and in the next. There's a passage here," Aang indicated with his finger, "that talks about acolytes being guided by the spirits to find their twin soul and that mastery of the heart can only be achieved by walking amongst the spirits."

"What does that mean?"

Aang crinkled his brow in concentration. "I'm not really sure . . . that's one of the parts that I can't figure out if it's meant to be poetic or ties back to some sort of spiritual teaching. Everything we were taught about marriage was _spiritual_ in nature. This isn't related to anything I was taught, so maybe it was something that the older acolytes learned at the end of their training."

Aang slid his finger over the characters, obviously looking for a particular passage. "The rite itself is very short and it isn't witnessed by a court like the fire bender rite, but there are _really_ specific instructions about the type of robes that are to be worn, the preparations for the ritual, and the like. Maybe this is why I never went to a wedding even when a Brother that I was close to married—the ceremony is convened only between the couple in the privacy of their rooms on their wedding night—there's no witnesses."

"Really? That's unusual."

"I thought so too . . . I've never heard of a wedding without witnesses. Especially since in monastic life, all things are shared in common and festivals are celebrated with special joy, it doesn't make sense that the marriage rite would be so intensely private." Aang's finger trailed further down the scroll. "This part here," he indicated another passage with his finger, "it says something about a true marriage of souls is only possible through the approval . . . hmm, I'm not sure if I'm translating that word right . . . of the spirits. I don't know why they made a point to say it again—it sounds like what they said in this passage above."

"The cording that was used for tying the scroll is used in the ceremony, and so are the sky orchid pellets." Aang took the cording back out of the box and weighed it in his hand, examining it closely. "This cording is actually unique and possibly ancient—I think that this length of cord is why marriages were only conducted at the eastern air temple. It must have some sort of special property.

Returning to the scroll, Aang continued, "There's nothing here about anything leading up to the ceremony, and I'm really surprised that there's not actually any mention of bending at all. Bending is part of the traditional marriages of the other nations."

Aang leaned back against the wall and rested the back of his head on his folded hands again. He shook his head slightly, perplexed. "At the end it just talks about there's a community breakfast, where the girls of the temple would serve the bridal couple sweetened rice, fried sweet biscuits, and fruit for breakfast, and each girl at the temple would present the couple with a perfect blossom as a wish for long life and many children."

Katara flopped back against the pillows, her hair hanging over the edge of the rope bed. "That sounds divine."

Aang laughed and crawled across the bed to lay next to her. "Which part? The wedding? The wedding night?" His smile broadened. "Cute little girls bringing you flowers? Long life and many children?"

Katara smiled and teased, "That all sounds great too, but for right now, I was just thinking about breakfast."


	9. CH 9: Breakfast

I own no part of Avatar: Fanfiction only.

Breakfast

Katara sat on the broad ledge of a refectory window, leaning as far out as she dared to watch Aang and Momo. Every few minutes, she would see his glider emerge from the mist on the slopes below, where he had gone to gather fruit for their breakfast, and each time, the wind would carry his laughter and Momo's chatter back to her. While waiting for water to boil to make rice and tea, she brushed her hair, relishing the warmth of the rising sun on her skin. She couldn't remember the last time he had been so happy—it seemed like ages since they'd had so many days of good fortune and happiness.

By the time Aang returned, Katara had already finished a cup of tea and had wrapped the tea pot and steamer in a towel to keep them warm. He glided directly into the refectory, landing lightly on the wide ledge, and Katara's heart nearly stopped. In that moment, he was the picture of joy and youth, strong and happy, just past the cusp of early manhood with the wind at his back and the sun on his face. The soft light of morning erased lines that war and worry had etched into his young face, but she knew that the light in his eyes was because of her. Even though he had hesitated on the ledge for only a moment, waiting for Momo to land on his shoulder, but laughing when the lemur cannoned into the side of his face instead, she knew that she would remember the way he looked and the carefree ring of his laughter in that moment until the spirits called her.

Aang spun his glider, snapping it shut and propped it on the edge of the table as he hopped down from the ledge and gathered her into his arms and off her feet, turning on the spot as he kissed her thoroughly. She'd found that close to the equator, her Fire Nation silks were the most comfortable, and she'd noticed that Aang particularly liked her in them as well, as they left more of her skin bare to his touch than her Water Tribe gi. Through the fine silk, she could feel the heat radiating from him.

Laughing, she commented on his landing as they broke apart. "Now I see why all the ledges on the windows here are so wide!"

Aang grinned. "I was set to extra chores more times than I can count because I sailed in through one of the windows at the Southern Air Temple. Strictly speaking, we weren't supposed to sail in or out of the windows, but the extra chores were usually worth it just to enjoy the thrill of dropping out the window and riding the thermals that rise up the side of the mountain. Several of the monks were known to step directly out of the windows and ride the wind down to a lower level of the temple just to avoid using the stairs."

Aang set Katara back onto the terra cotta tiles but didn't release her. Folding her hands behind his neck, she continued, "What kinds of chores were you set to?"

He laughed. "It depended on who caught you and how much they liked you. Gyatso usually sent me to clean the air bison stable. The work there was hard, but it was fun. The older boys would drop bison patties down the back of your robes if you weren't careful, so there was always a lot of running and yelling and splashing in the stable. He used to have to come and retrieve me from the stable where I had fallen asleep in Appa's stall, and he would carry me to bed. We had another Brother who didn't like me very much—he always set me to hand scrubbing the floors with brushes made of bison wool." Aang pulled a face. "We constantly swept the floors by bending—it was used as a training exercise for the younger boys—so the floor was never really in need of serious scrubbing. It was just a particularly tedious task, and your hands smelled like wet bison for a week afterwards, no matter how much you scrubbed yourself afterwards."

Katara laughed. She loved the way his face lit up when he told her stories about his childhood. "What else did you have to do?"

Aang settled back against the edge of the table, pulling her between his thighs to cradle her against his body. "Hmmm . . ." He wrapped his arms around her waist, twining his fingers in the small of her back. "I once had to reshelve an entire section of books in the library because I had snuck a whole nest of kangaroo-toads into the library. Of course, they got out of my robes where I thought I had them corralled, and six of us ran pell-mell, laughing through the section trying to round them up. At one point, I ran straight onto one of the shelves and knocked it into the next one. Before I knew it, four shelves had been knocked over, there was a huge crack in the stucco wall, and a visiting acolyte from the Northern Air Temple had been nearly knocked out a window."

"Was anyone hurt?"

Aang rolled his eyes. "No, but the way they let on, you'd think I had killed someone. Spirits, I hated the library!" Aang rubbed her back, and she sqeezed his ribs, snuggling into the hollow between his neck and shoulder.

"Why did you hate the library?"

"Well . . . I didn't _hate_ it, I just far preferred to be out flying or playing with the other boys." Aang paused to luxuriate in the feel of Katara's kisses, working their way up the side of his throat to his ear. "At the end of my time at the temple," he paused, distracted by her teeth gently nibbling at his ear lobe, "I spent almost all my time there."

"Why?"

Aang's voice changed, now melancholy. "After the other boys found out I was the Avatar, they wouldn't play with me anymore. I don't know if they were forbidden or just didn't want to anymore. Some of the monks at the temple felt that I wasn't studying hard enough, and that it was my duty to complete my training at record pace, so they pushed me until I was studying five or six hours and doing battle training for at least as much every day. I never made it to the Eastern Air Temple to finish my spiritual formation. I was the youngest air bender to ever receive their tattoos, but it wasn't very much fun getting to that point."

Katara squeezed him again and leaned back to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry, love. That must have been lonely."

Aang shrugged and kissed her, smiling again. "It worked out in the end . . . there was a storm I needed to catch."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"What did you call this again?"

Aang grinned and popped a slice of papaya in his mouth. He had wanted to treat Katara to the variety of fruits growing at any given time on the slopes on the mountains below the temple, and had been rewarded by her enthusiasm. Living in the South Pole, even the most mundane fresh fruits were a treasure, and the dried fruits that could be obtained by trade came at a high cost. Most of these she'd never heard of, little lone tasted. She was adorable—like a child with candy.

"It's a floating mango. Gyatso used to use them to make these creamy tarts all the time." Aang's eyes twinkled. "I suspect he was often in trouble himself, because he seemed to always be working in the kitchen, even though he was one of the highest ranking masters in the temple."

Katara shrugged and returned Aang's grin. "Maybe it was just his happy place."

"Everywhere was his happy place."

"Sounds like his son."

Aang beamed, but his response was interrupted by an enormous arctic goose winging its way through the window. Katara recognized the goose as one of Hakoda's. Even though Zuko had offered several hawks for Hakoda's use, the geese were more acclimated to the storms and cold of the South Pole. The bird landed heavily on the table, cuffing Aang as it folded its wings and affectionately rubbing its head against Katara's cheek.

"What is it with you and these birds?"

Katara laughed. "I don't know, they just like me, I guess. Maybe air creatures are just naturally attracted to me."

"I think it's the strips of dried meat you carry in your bag to treat them with," he teased back.

Katara blushed as she retrieved the letter from its canister on the goose's back. "A girl never reveals her secrets." Tempting the goose with a translucent green berry from the wooden bowl on the table, she continued, "Besides, meat only works on the hawks. Geese like fruit. What's this one again?"

Aang snorted through his nose in derision. "That's a gooseberry."

Katara frowned as she scanned the letter.

"What's wrong?"

She glanced up. "Nothing, but they want to do the wedding next week. There's some sort of unrest brewing between two clans west of our village that could end up in a lengthy dispute. The council wants us to return right away so we can be married before the dispute gets really messy. We can't leave now though . . . I'll just send back a note to have them delay it."

"No, wait—why can't we go back now?"

Katara looked up in surprise. "I just assumed that you would want to stay here and look for the library. We were just engaged—we can wait if we need to."

Aang leaned back, thinking. "I'd love to drop everything and look for the library now, but honestly, if it's still safely hidden, it's probably best left there for now. We certainly can't take it with us, and I don't know that I could replicate whatever protection the ancient air benders have placed on it. It makes more sense to talk to the Air Nomad communities lower on the mountain to see if there is anyone interested in becoming an acolyte at the temple first. I can't always be here to ensure its safety, and it would be a real tragedy if it was destroyed in my absence. This is just a bigger project than we can manage in a matter of days . . . maybe not even weeks."

Aang paused, looking wistfully at Katara. "Besides . . . I don't want to wait any longer to get married." He dropped his eyes to the mango he was turning over in his hands, too embarrassed to meet Katara's gaze. "I waited a long time . . . _too_ long, in fact . . . to propose. There's no real reason to wait. We've been together almost half our lives, and _I'm_ certainly not going to change my mind . . . it's not like we need time to get to know one another."

Katara laid the scroll down and shooed the goose out of the bowl of fruit. "Are you sure? I know how excited you are at the thought of being able to reassemble the Air Temple libraries."

Aang reached across the table and clasped her hands. "I _am_ excited, but rebuilding the Air Temples is going to be a lifetime of work. There aren't words to describe how much I have appreciated that you have stayed with me all these years, far from your family, with no promise of marriage or plan for a home, no clear path before us. You deserve your wedding. Besides, what I want more than anything, what I've _needed_ for a long time, is to have my wife by my side."

He stood up and started clearing away the remains of their breakfast. "Tell Hakoda we're coming now."


	10. CH 10: Home

I own no part of Avatar: Fanfiction only.

Home

The Southern Water Tribe wedding ceremony was a drawn out affair that had taken place in the council hall with the entire tribe in breathless attendance, followed by a lengthy banquet with a nauseating quantity of meat and fish dishes. Suspecting that this might be the case, Aang had insisted that they load as much of the precious fruit that they could pick at the Eastern Air Temple into Appa's saddle before returning. He may have to wear furs to keep from freezing in the South, but he certainly had no intention of eating meat.

Unable to choose between asking Sokka and Zuko to stand up with him for the ceremony, Aang had asked both, and Zuko and Mai sat with Ty Lee, Iroh, and Toph next to Aang at the high table, Sokka and Suki with Hakoda, Pakku, and Kanna next to Katara. When he had reached his place for the banquet, Aang was unsurprised that Zuko had also supplied a wine steward and several bottles of fire lily mead. Catching Aang's eye, Zuko raised his glass, smirking. Defiantly, Aang lifted his own glass from the table and quaffed it, brandished the empty glass at Zuko, and bowed ostentatiously. Laughing, Zuko told the steward to refill Aang's glass.

Just as Aang had dreaded that the wedding ceremony would never end, the reception seemed to drag on for hours, with singing, storytelling, dancing, and course after course of food. Finally, Katara had escaped the council hall with Mai, Suki, and Ty Lee, and they had been swallowed by the darkness, a flurry of swirling skirts, giggles, and snow. Aang yearned to follow them, but every few steps, he was blocked by yet another somebody that good form required him to pretend to listen to for a few minutes before politely excusing himself.

Aang's patience had nearly worn thin when Sokka, recognizing the signs of the Avatar about to completely lose his composure, finally barged into a conversation with a minor Earth Kingdom noble and flatly stated, "The Avatar has more important business on the night of his _wedding_ than sorting out your problems." Amidst Aang's hurried apologies and half-hearted attempt at a bow, Sokka took a handful of the back of Aang's winter robes and towed him firmly towards the door of the hall, ignoring at least a dozen other minor somebodies who had picked up the hems of their ceremonial robes and were scurrying in their wake.

Sokka wrenched open the door of the council hall, unceremoniously shoved Aang out into the snow, tossed a parka in his face, and slammed the door behind him. Drawing his war club, he turned and faced the cadre of somebodies who now found themselves nose to nose with the Avatar's new brother-in-law. Pointedly slapping the flat of the blade against his palm, Sokka asked, "Is there anyone else who'd like to impose on the Avatar's time this evening?" Benefitting from Hakoda's height, Sokka took a step forward, looming over most of the quivering somebodies, and he continued, "Because if there is, they are going to need to discuss it with me first. Anyone?"

On the other side of the door, Aang leaned against the door of the council hall, breathed in the crisp air, and sighed out his profound relief and gratitude that Sokka had finally extricated him from the reception. He had hoped that this evening would be more like Zuko's wedding, allowing him to bask in the reflected glow of the occasion. Rather than leaving him to enjoy his long anticipated wedding, apparently every diplomat, noble, magistrate, and the spirits know who else that had to be invited to a state event in the Southern Water Tribe saw this as the perfect opportunity to introduce themselves and curry favor. As if this was the moment. As if he _cared_. At this precise moment, frankly for every moment of the past week, the _only_ thing he had cared about was finally finding his way home to his new bride. Something he'd desperately wanted to do for several years.

Having completed the requisite ceremonies and traditions of Katara's people, he was keen to complete the much more private and intimate marriage ceremony that was proscribed in the scroll they had received in the Eastern Air Temple. He was starting to think he wouldn't have the opportunity to be finished with all of the wedding formalities before the sun rose . . . and that wasn't due for another two months.

Hakoda had had the sense to have their new home built some distance from the rest of the village to provide them with some privacy, so it took a good fifteen minutes for Aang to trudge through the newly fallen snow. Reviewing in his mind the particulars of the remaining ceremony, Aang nearly overlooked the shadows that detached themselves from the walls of their home in the moonlight.

Aang immediately swiped a hand through the air, dispersing the shadows in an arc of fire and revealing Zuko and Iroh waiting patiently for him, sipping tea. Aang's shoulders sagged and he groaned internally. _What now?_

Aang swallowed his irritation and laughed nervously, rubbing his hand absently over the top of his head and causing the hood of his parka to fall back. He felt fairly certain that the next few minutes were likely to be intensely awkward, deeply embarrassing, or, more likely, both. "Zuko . . . Iroh . . . everything OK?"

Iroh was clearly brimming with amusement. Bubbling with it. Barely able to contain it. Bursting. _Even better,_ Aang thought. He could feel the rush of blood already climbing up his neck before Zuko roughly grabbed Aang's sleeve and turned him back down the path. Aang started ticking off in his mind the myriad topics Zuko would want to discuss on the evening of his wedding and rapidly trying to assemble a list of objections to cut off this off as quickly as possible.

"I really don't think this is a good idea—"

" _What?"_ Aang stopped short in the path, Zuko nearly barreling into him. That really wasn't where he thought this conversation was headed. He rounded on Zuko. "After practically drowning us with fire lily mead, threatening me _repeatedly_ with my failure to adequately satisfy my blood debt," Aang's patience was well and thoroughly run through now, and the volume of his protests rose with every word, "what could you _possibly_ be objecting to _now?_ " A splash and sizzle made Aang crane his head over Zuko's shoulder to see Iroh vibrating with sufficient silent laughter to have spilled his tea in the snow.

"I don't like the two of you out here undefended . . ."

"Undefended? We are in the heart of the Southern Water Tribe!"

"Listen to me!" Zuko stopped, and grabbing Aang by the shoulders of his parka, shook him briefly. "Your guard is going to be completely down—" Exasperated, Aang dropped his face into one hand while raising the other in an attempt to stop Zuko before he felt the need to continue.

"Zuko, I really appreciate your concern, but—"

"Do you have any idea how defenseless you will be?" _No, but I'd welcome the opportunity to find out!_ "If I was trying to kill the Avatar," _Spirits, you're killing me right now!_ "this would be the perfect opportunity because your guard will be down and you aren't expecting it. Hakoda has left the two of you completely undefended all the way out here away from the rest of the village. He's made no provision for your security!"

"Zuko, I'm the best bender on the face of the planet, I really think I can—"

Zuko lunged into his face, "Well, I don't!"

Aang took a deep breath and let it out very slowly through his nose, counting. There had been many, _many_ occasions on which he had contemplated the merits of ending Zuko's short existence, and was suddenly deeply resenting his restraint. He rocked back on his heels, crossed his arms, and regarded Zuko through slitted eyes. Jaw locked, Aang asked through his teeth, "Just what do you propose?"

"Uncle and I will personally ensure . . ."

"Oh, Zuko, for the love of all the fair winds of the East! It's late, I'm tired, I'd _really_ like to go to bed . . . _please_ , would you just go find Mai and go to bed yourself?" Aang could hear the crunch of snow as Iroh approached. "Iroh, _please_ , truly, I think we can manage—would you please tell Zuko—"

"Aang, it pains me to say this, but I think Zuko is right." Zuko crossed his arms, clearly settling in for a fight. "On the night of Zuko's wedding, the palace guards were tripled, and the Fire Palace is ten times more secure than this open tundra. Even your own door was guarded that night." Aang took another deep calming breath. _Of course it was._

"You are surrounded by friends and family, yes, but there are many people here who we neither know nor trust. The life of the Avatar, the last remaining air bender, and his wife, a prominent water bending master, are the most precious, irreplaceable people in all the world. A tragedy tonight under the noses of every world leader would cast the entire world into chaos."

Aang took a steadying breath. "Just so I'm clear," he looked between Zuko and Iroh, "you'd like me to spend my first night with Katara with the two of you hovering outside my door?"

Zuko shifted his feet and looked uncomfortable. "Well, that's not really . . ."

Aang's temper flared. " _Yes_ , that's _exactly_ you're suggesting!" Iroh and Zuko both opened their mouths to protest. "Fine! Stay out here and freeze all night! At some point," Aang jabbed one finger into Zuko's chest, emitting sparks in his frustration, "you are going to go back to the Fire Nation, and you," turning his heated gaze on Iroh, "are going to go back to your tea shop. You can't guard us forever."

"This is diff—" Zuko began again.

"Fine! Drink your tea and have great evening. I'm going to bed." A thought struck Aang and he turned on the spot in horror. "You _are_ intending to stay _outside_ my door?"

Zuko and Iroh instantly started babbling something to the affirmative, a blush rising up Zuko's neck.

"Oh—yes, of course! Mai's already checked—"

"And Ty Lee assured us—"

Aang didn't stick around to hear what Mai and Ty Lee had assured them of.

"Long live the Avatar and Lady Katara!" Iroh called after Aang's retreating back. Chuckling, he leaned into Zuko, "I think that went rather well, don't you?"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Muttering all the way in a mixture of anger, frustration, amusement, and exasperation, Aang reached the door and placed both hands and his forehead against the frosted wood, willing himself to calm down. He was nervous enough as it was before Zuko and Iroh's noble efforts presented yet another interruption, and even after several deep breaths, Aang's hands still trembled and his heart still raced. Finally, Aang decided that he was as calm as he was likely to manage under the circumstances, and he pressed the door open and was surprised by the fragrant warmth that washed over him when he entered.

With Pakku's relocation to the South Pole, the village was rapidly taking on the shape and style of the Northern Water Tribe architecture. Much of the village had been rebuilt over the years with the help of northern benders. Pakku himself had built Aang and Katara's home, insisting that the Avatar should have a permanent residence in the South with his wife's people. Homes built in the northern style were significantly bigger, multi-room structures, and Pakku had outdone himself.

Since they had returned to the South Pole a week ago, their new home had been a constant hub of excitement. It seemed that every woman in the village had personally provided something to furnish it, and he was amazed at both their generosity and the joy and pride they took in the giving. While he was embarrassed to receive such extravagance that far outstripped his personal needs, he was humbled by how completely he had been welcomed into the hearts of the Southern Water Tribe people.

According to southern traditions, a couple's new home would be furnished from the bride's hope chest, but Katara's was so significant (and judging by the constant comings and goings he saw from a distance, continuing to grow) that the women of the tribe had spent the better part of the week arranging, rearranging, decorating, and sorting. He'd barely seen Katara all week, and any time he'd approached the house, he'd been steered cheerfully and sometimes forcefully away.

Aang had privately been dreading having a permanent residence here. Although used to the cold of the Southern Air Temple, it was never so cold that you had to be constantly swaddled in _furs_. Aang despised the thought of the animals killed to make his parka and other southern clothes, but after years of shivering misery on every visit, Katara had finally convinced him that it was the only way to make the South Pole hospitable. He couldn't imagine shivering through every long arctic night in heavy sleeping bags, sleeping in furs.

Although the exterior of the house looked very much like any other southern water tribe home, Aang was surprised to find that the interior resembled their apartment in the Fire Palace. An inner shell of pale wooden planking had been constructed within the walls of ice with a deep pocket of air between the two, allowing the interior to be heated significantly more than the inside of a traditional Southern Water Tribe home without melting the exterior walls. From the exterior, the home looked enormous, and he now understood why—the actual space inside was quite modest but had been modified for their comfort. Aang stood dripping on the floor, raised over two feet above the tundra which Pakku had bent away to create the foundation of their home.

Aang was touched as he placed a hand on the wall next to the door, finding it comfortably warm. Someone had gone to an enormous expense to ensure that they would be comfortable here. The center of the room was taken up by an enormous metal brazier, which had been lowered into an opening in the floor, white stone creating a liner between the edges of the smooth wooden floor and the hot lip. His eyes scanned through the main chamber, across hand-made furniture, hand-stitched tapestries covering much of the walls to further hold the warmth of the air, and a low table that looked like it was fashioned from the same black stone that laid under the South Pole's snow. It was surrounded by hand-stitched cushions, likely filled with the same down as the mattress Katara had brought with them after the betrothal. Lamps hung from the ceiling that had clearly come from the fire nation, finely wrought and set with glass panels so that they bathed the room in a soft glow. One wall was lined with a low shelf of books that must have come dear. On top of the shelf, he could see brushes and an ink stone laid out.

Aang could hear Katara humming from the next room, but he wasn't yet ready to announce his arrival. He was still was overwhelmed by the generosity that had been showered upon them. He sat on a bench carved with the forms of a pack of wolves beside the door and slid off his wet boots, tucking them next to Katara's under the bench. Dreading the cold of the floor, he gingerly lowered a foot to the woven mat that covered the floor to find it also comfortably warm, the heat spreading through the pocket of air under the floor and heated by the brazier in the center of the room.

Aang sat on the bench, tracing the intricate lines of the faces and fur of the wolves that had been carved into the back of the bench. He recognized Bato's handiwork, having seen a similar bench in his home, and again, was touched by the many hours of artistry that had gone into its creation. Just as he had been unable to wrap his mind around what it would mean to have Katara, not just that she would be with him and near him, but that she would be his wife, his to possess, he was unable to comprehend the thought of having a home, of having a place that was theirs. Even in the air temples, home was a shared space, in which you were a permanent guest, but this was different. This was meant to be like . . . sanctuary.

He had apparently been lost in thought for some time when Katara found him. A puddle had formed under his boots, and water dripped slowly from the edge of Sokka's parka. The toes of one foot rested gingerly on the floor, while the other foot had been drawn up onto the bench, his chin resting on the knee of one long folded leg. He'd wrapped one arm around his knee, while the slender fingers of the other hand caressed the grooves that formed the face of a wolf in the back of the bench.

Katara padded on bare feet across the floor and reached out a hand to stroke the side of Aang's face. He reached up a hand and took hers, turning it to plant a kiss in her palm. She sat next to him on the bench, and he pulled his heels up close to make space for her.

"Are you OK?"

Aang nodded, scanning the room with his eyes. "This . . . this is a lot . . . a lot to take in. I guess I'm just overwhelmed."

Katara sat back on the bench, folding her arms over her pale gold linen robes and let out a deep breath. "It is a lot. Believe it or not, a much of this is Zuko. Apparently he had the floors, walls, and ceiling built from a tree of that only grows in the Fire Nation and never burns. Mai said he had the panels built years ago, anticipating that we would marry at some point and have a home in the South." Katara tugged on Aang's parka sleeve and smiled. "He knows how much you hate the cold. The panels for the house came with his response to the wedding invitation, along with six shivering Fire Nation craftsmen who were told to have the house built by the time he arrived in three days. When Zuko and Mai arrived, they came here first for an inspection."

Aang grinned. "I'm sure Pakku loved that. Zuko's a good friend. I was seriously considering murdering him in the snow a while ago. Apparently he and Iroh are going to be stationed at our door all night to ensure our safety."

Katara laughed quietly. "He would never say it aloud, but you are dear to him. Through you, he was able to restore his own honor as well as the honor of his family and his people. In his heart, he believes he owes you a debt much greater than he could ever repay in this lifetime . . . and you're his friend. He would go to great lengths to make you happy . . . if you'd let him!"

"I know." Aang reached out, stroking Katara's face, hooking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "I am happy."

Katara smiled and rose from the bench, taking his hands to draw him up. "Well, we aren't finished yet. We still have the air bending ceremony ahead of us before we are well and truly wed to everyone's satisfaction."


	11. CH 11: The Final Rite

I own no part of Avatar: Fanfiction only.

The Final Rite

When Mai, Ty Lee, and Suki had escorted Katara home after the reception, they had insisted on dressing her again for the air bender ceremony before they left. The pale gold linen robe had already been laid out across the bed. Suki had lifted it from the coverlet and looked around in confusion.

"Where's the rest?"

Mai smirked and exchanged a loaded look with Ty Lee as Katara blushed furiously. Risking a glance at Mai, she stuttered, "Remember when I told you what I wore for Mai's wedding? This is . . . sort of like that."

At Suki's wedding, Katara had helped the other Kyoshi Warriors dress Suki in seven very fine silk robes, the one closest to her skin in a deep forest green with a wide band of gold brocade that wrapped around the full sleeves at her wrist, the hem brushing the top of Suki's embroidered slippers. Each successive robe was sleeveless and had layered on top, the hem several inches shorter than the preceding one and a few shades lighter in color. The final robe had been white and fell to mid-thigh. Over the robes had been belted a broad yellow obi that stretched from the bottom of Suki's ribs to her hips. Suki's hair had been styled elaborately, with golden pins fashioned to look like moon blossoms and cascades of golden opal blooms. When Katara had explained what she had worn as part of the Fire Court, Suki had been scandalized.

Katara continued, "Air bender marriages are traditionally conducted at the Eastern Air Temple. Because the boundaries between our world and the spirit world are so thin there, it exists in a state of eternal spring. Their robes are very light, and the air bending marriage rite is private. There is no need for elaborate robes."

While she spoke, Mai had drawn out the pins that had held Katara's thick hair up into the elaborate style the women of the tribe had dressed her hair in for the Water Tribe wedding ceremony, and she had started combing scented water through it to relax the locks from the waves left by the many braids. Unused to such pampering, and from Mai of all people, Katara was surprised to find herself relaxing under the influence of the sweet floral aroma and Mai's comb.

Katara closed her eyes in bliss. "Mmmm . . . what is that?"

Mai smiled. "It's fire lily water. When you soak the petals in hot water, the water captures the fragrance. Zuko likes it when I rinse my hair with it—I thought Aang might like it too."

Katara felt warmth flood her cheeks at the thought of pleasing Aang. She watched as Suki held up the robe, frowning. It was simple but elegant, with long full sleeves that ended in a deep saffron cuff with a matching band of saffron at the floor-length hem and a single frog buttoned at the side seam over the ribs.

"OK, it's plain like the rest of the air bender's clothes, but what do you wear under it?"

Katara took a deep breath and could feel her blush deepen.

Finished with Katara's hair, Mai folded her arms in derision and drawled, "Nothing. It's a _private_ ceremony . . ."

Katara stood up abruptly, her stomach now fluttering nervously. "You know, I think I can take it from here."

"Oh, but we didn't—" Ty Lee started to protest, but Suki dropped the robe on the bed as though it was on fire and positively fled in relief, while Mai smirked and shooed Ty Lee out.

Mai glanced back over her shoulder at Katara, clutching the comb and almost vibrating with a combination of embarrassment and nervous energy. She laughed, but not unkindly. She closed the door behind Ty Lee and Suki and returned, gently prying the comb from Katara's fingers.

"Why are you so nervous? You've been with him almost half your life, and he loves you more than his own breath. It's not like you to be so timid."

Katara laughed, the sound brittle in her own ears. "I know. It's just real now—I'm nervous I guess."

"Aang is a very gentle man," Katara's heart swelled and threatened to beat out of her chest. "I'm sure he's just as nervous. But if you're really worried," Mai slitted her eyes and gave Katara a wicked smile, "I'd be happy to leave you a few of my blades."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Katara busied herself with the small brazier that Aang had brought with them from the air temple, setting a sky orchid pellet onto the spike. She could see Aang changing from the corner of her eye, and nearly dropped the tiny seed of incense, distracted by his invitingly bare skin. Her hands trembled as she struck the flint and steel to ignite the incense.

There was almost no part of him she hadn't seen or touched, either from years of practicing water bending while standing hip deep in a river or from healing various cuts, burns, and broken bones. This was different, though—she'd never had the opportunity to touch him with the sole purpose of pleasing, rather than comforting. Though she had often longed for his touch, before their betrothal their contact had always been affectionate but chaste. Since she'd learned to blood bend, she had always been hyperaware of his presence, and she had noticed that she could still feel him even when they were separated by vast distance. Tonight, separated by only a few steps, his presence was irresistibly magnetic.

Katara reached out and ran a hand lightly down his back, uncertainly at first, but with slightly greater pressure as she registered his deep sigh. He shivered at her touch, and she wrapped her arms around him, one hand across his flat belly, the other across his chest, gently stroking the warm skin with the side of her thumb. Aang experienced a wave of dizzying pleasure, and with his robe clutched in one hand, he reached out and steadied himself against the smooth plank wall with the other. Katara leaned into his back, allowing her hands to explore the contours of his body, down his ribs, and, after a hesitation during which she half expected him to turn or guide her hands away, her fingertips followed the ridge of muscle that continued from his hip inside the waist of his loose trousers.

Katara heard his breathing hitch and he seemed to hold his breath, so she paused, waiting to see if he wanted her to stop. When he remained still, seemingly frozen in place, she allowed her fingers to drift further, travelling back up the length of his arousal, hardening beneath her touch. Katara wrapped her hand around his silky length, gently massaging the tip with her thumb, growing moist with her touch. A soft, strangled groan pressed from Aang's throat, and Katara reluctantly slid her hand back up his belly, withdrawing from him with a kiss to his shoulder. She took the robe from his trembling hand.

"Let me."

He allowed her to draw the robe over his arms and settle it onto his broad shoulders, and then he finished dressing for the ceremony. After buttoning the robe, Aang turned to her and wrapped his arms around her, resting his face in her hair. She smelled different . . . she had combed something spicy and floral into her hair that seemed familiar but which he couldn't place. He breathed deeply, and the fragrance seemed to settle within him, accelerating his deepening need.

"Mmmm . . . you smell so good . . . what is in your hair?"

Katara smiled, silently thanking Mai. "It's fire lily water. Do you like it?"

"Mmmm hmmm." He dipped his head, kissing the side of her neck. "We should get started." . . . _before I've completely lost what remains of my self control._ Between the moon above, the mead in his veins, and the fragrance of the sky orchid starting to curl its tendrils around his mind, he was beginning to seriously doubt his ability to keep his hands off his wife long enough to manage yet another marriage ceremony. _Thank the spirits that it is blessedly brief._

Katara placed the brazier on a table next to the bed and held out her hands, inviting him to join her. He took one of her hands and reached back to the table behind Katara, flicked open the box of incense, and drew out the red cord. He nodded to her, and they sat together, arranging themselves into full lotus positions beneath the voluminous robes, their knees pressed together. Aang spread the red cord across his lap so that it would be at hand once they began the ceremony. They both assumed the traditional air bender meditation posture, with fists held tight to the heart, knuckle to knuckle.

After a few calming breaths, Aang was ready to begin. He had memorized the rite and translated it for Katara, but the incense was already making the room dance and shimmer disconcertingly around him.

"I, Aang, do on this day, pledge myself in marriage to Katara. I promise to hold her in my heart before all others, and shall defend her life and her honor to the last breath of my body." Aang nodded for Katara to repeat the vow.

"I, Katara, do on this day, pledge myself in marriage to Aang. I promise to hold him in my heart before all others, and shall defend his life and his honor to the last breath of my body." Katara raised her eyebrows in question: _was that right?_

Aang nodded in affirmation and lifted his left hand, splayed the fingers, and draped the red cord over his smallest finger and the thumb, leaving a stretch of the cording to span his palm. "As a symbol of our commitment to be bound by this oath, in our hearts and in our flesh, we ask the spirits to bless our hand-binding."

Aang nodded, and Katara laced the fingers of her right hand with his left hand over the red cording and they worked together to wrap the ends around their clasped hands and wrists and then tie the intricate knot that was described in the scroll. This part of the ceremony had seemed awkward, so they had practiced several times until they could manage the hand-binding without difficulty. When they reached a particularly difficult twist in the knot, their eyes met and they grinned. Their first attempt had ended in a mess that had taken Aang twenty minutes to untangle, made more difficult by Katara's laughter as he picked away at the ever tighter knot. Once they mastered it, they realized that the entire knot would come loose with just a tug and felt foolish having botched it on prior attempts.

Katara continued the next part of the rite, intoning, "With full knowledge of the weight of our request," _well, I hope so_ , Aang thought uncomfortably, but something had begun to nag at the back of his mind. Something Gyatso had told him once . . . "we do hereby request that the spirits grant our request for our souls to be bound as are our hands" . . . _what had Gyatso said about twin souls_. . . "in this life, in the next, and in all our lives yet to be."

Aang's eyes flew wide, remembering. _Soul-binding_. This wasn't just a marriage rite . . . it was a soul-binding rite. Perhaps it was the incense or just that he hadn't heard Katara put the entire vow together before, but he hadn't registered the deeper meaning of the words when he had translated them for her. _Spirits, what had he done?_

Katara, seeing Aang's expression, froze. She had intoned the end of the rite—had she done it wrong?

Silently, Katara mouthed, _What's wrong?_

Aang held up a finger and closed his eyes, and probed gently at the door in his mind that he associated with entering the spirit world. The door was closed, but stubbornly so. When he pushed at it in his mind, it actually pushed back. Hmmm . . . for whatever reason, even with the incense, the door to the spirit world was closed at the moment. _Fair enough._ Maybe the soul-binding didn't work; maybe it was only a path open to two air benders. Maybe the vow was primarily ceremonial. The incense was continuing to cloud his mind, so he decided to push his concerns away for now and hope for the best.

Aang opened his eyes and smiled reassuringly at Katara. She relaxed immediately and returned his smile. As Katara had said, they were now married to the satisfaction of everyone. _Well . . . maybe not everyone . . ._ Aang could feel his blood rekindle as he considered what would satisfy his standards for what would qualify for being well and truly married.

Aang reached out, threaded his fingers into Katara's hair, and pulled her closer for a kiss. Even though the moon wasn't full tonight, he could still feel her blood sing through her veins, feel it bloom in her lips and across her cheeks as he pressed his lips against hers with growing urgency. Aang stood, pulling her after him, and he led her to the bed, their hands still bound.

The specifics of the rite required the hand-binding to remain in place until morning and that the incense be allowed to burn throughout the night. In addition to the awkwardness of having their hands bound, this meant the long robes effectively would have to remain in place as well.

Katara sat, but as she laid back on the pillows, she pulled Aang with her, unwilling to break their kiss. His lips found their way down her throat to the collar of her robe while his fingers deftly unbuttoned the frog of her robe, allowing him to continue trailing his kisses down her breast, to suck gently at a nipple, while his free hand followed the curve of her waist and her hip to caress the softness of the inside of Katara's thigh.

"Aang . . . come here . . ." Katara whispered, and returning to her lips, she reached out a hand to his cheek, stroking his face, and guiding his mouth to hers. He felt her hand slide down his chest, seeking the frog that closed his robe. With a tug, she released it and was able to slide her hand inside his robe, across his chest and down to his hip, pulling him closer.

Riding a wave of incense-induced euphoria, his long-postponed desire, and the encouragement of his wife's sighs and moans, Aang could wait no longer and plunged deep into Katara. He barely registered her sharp gasp and could not stop. He was all sensation, feeling only the tight slipperiness of his wife around him, her thighs locked around his hips, her arm around his shoulders, her breath on his neck, her mouth on his own, the sounds of her pleasure. After several deep thrusts, he felt her convulse under him, her back arch, and heard her choked sigh into his shoulder, and he shattered completely, knowing that at last, she was his. All that he registered were her kisses, her warmth, and a soft blue glow before losing consciousness.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

In that moment, when his soul was laid wide open, every defense shattered, every thought silenced, his senses flooded with her taste and scent, his body aflame with the ecstasy of her pressed against him, sheathing him, the world was only a soft blue glow that cradled them and spiraled out like eternity, but surely had only lasted seconds. He felt something deeper within her . . . something beyond her breath that he could feel brushing against the edge of his bending, something beyond the surge and ebb of her blood that he could feel pulsing in the draw of the moon, separated from his own pulse only by the thin veil of their joined flesh.

Something called to him and yearned for him with a need and a desire even deeper and older than the one that they had just sated. In his mind's eye, he could see it—a tightly twisting knot of light, too blinding to look away from, so hot it was blue and winking like a star, beckoning, demanding his touch. He felt its need and he felt an answering hunger awakened and building within himself, answering its call with a growing ferocity. Without thinking, without considering, he reached out with the only part of him that was not already inseparably entwined with Katara. He gathered the entirety of his chi, focused only toward this one desire, now consuming his entire will, and he reached out a tendril of his soul, danced around the light, retreated, swayed closer, and finally touched the light.

When his chi touched the light, he was consumed by it, and he devoured it. In that moment, the light was completion and fulfillment like he could never have imagined, and he felt himself began to fragment and crackle, as though his bones splintered from the inside out, painless but audible. He felt bones come unhinged, muscles unstrung, the sensation spreading to the borders of his consciousness. As the bones snapped like glass, they seemed to immediately reform beneath his flesh in the same configuration, but somehow bound with something that had been missing, something that filled in gaps he had never realized existed, making them more solid in the reforging. He felt both whole and spent.

If he had been able to acknowledge the sensations of his flesh beyond the microcosm of the fracturing and bindings that ravaged his body, he would have felt Katara's answering shudder, her simultaneous deep breath. He would have worried that the way he crushed her smaller frame in his unchecked strength would bruise, would snap delicate bones. He would have felt her thighs tighten around his hips once again in response, her free arm, draped across the glowing tattoo that stretched down his spine, pulling him in ever tighter, Aang always her salvation and anchor. He would have felt her nails press into the skin of his shoulder until it yielded, beads of blood pearled at fingertips that had only ever touched him with tenderness, caressing and healing. He would have felt her back arch and wondered at the swell of her breasts pressed against him, the unbroken line of her throat racing to meet her jaw. He would have relished the strength of muscle and sinew and bone pressed against him and sighed in pleasure at the softness of her skin that burned against him. He would have seen Katara's eyes flood with the same blue light that filled his, but he saw and felt none of this. He only felt the demanding call of the light, the completion it brought . . . and then he felt nothing at all.


	12. CH 12: The Grove

I own no part of Avatar: Fanfiction only.

The Grove

Barely a half an hour had passed since Aang had closed the door, bolting it loudly in his wake, when Zuko had heard shouts distantly from the village. Turning to Iroh, he asked, "Do you hear that?"

Before Iroh could respond, a dozen hooded figures emerged from the dark, riding waves of ice at speed and raining showers of ice on them. Iroh leapt to the attack, bending a wall of fire that sent most of the attackers tumbling into the snow.

"I'll hold them off. Get Aang and Katara out!"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Aang drifted back to consciousness, the way one drifts up from the bottom of the ocean . . . ponderously, reluctantly, the light filtering down in rays, fragmented in bubbles and refracted by the movements caused by much greater beings than yourself. He felt the warm breeze playing across his skin, and something tickled his face. His mind followed the susurration of the breeze, stirring leaves, much like the music of water crashing on stone, but gentler. His mind rode the waves, as yet unwilling to emerge from its soft velvety slumber. Enjoying the warmth of the sun on his back, he took a deep breath that was all saltwater and lilies and moon blossoms and grass. Finally lifting leaden lids, his bleary eyes opened lazily to a dappled landscape, composed entirely of the contours of Katara's body, dressed in the shadows cast in the afternoon sun. He smiled and reached out, caressing the side of her face, stroking a thumb over her bottom lip before he rose on an elbow and kissed her. _Mmmmm . . . it was a good dream . . ._

Gradually returning to consciousness herself, Katara felt Aang's warmth against her and felt his lips pressed against her own. Languidly returning his increasingly insistent kisses, she finally opened an eye, squinting.

"Aang . . ."

"Mmmm?"

"Aang!"

Her sharp tone brought him out of his reverie, and he looked at her properly. She was squinting, her nose and brow crinkled with concern, and had brought a hand up to shield her eyes.

"Why is the sun pink?"

" _What?" NOT dreaming!_

Aang whipped around, regarding first the dull pink sun reigning over them, and then the cloudless sky, a delicate shade of burnt peach. He stood and drew his robe around himself, turning on the spot as he buttoned the frog.

They had awoken in a grassy clearing surrounded by a grove of ancient weeping moon blossom trees. The breeze lifted the delicate whippy branches, and petals drifted across the clearing, swirling playfully like flocks of tiny birds as they fell from the trees and drifted into puddles on the flag stones that were set in a ring around them inside the tree line.

"Spirits, what have I done?" Aang turned and looked at Katara, horror struck, true panic rising in him for the first time in many years.

Katara had already closed her own robe, and sensing Aang's alarm, she drew herself into a crouching fighting stance, spinning away from him, ready to counter an attack. Aang closed the space between them with two long strides, grabbed her roughly by the arm, and spun her to face him.

"Look at me!" Katara's eyes were wide, frightened. "Close your eyes and feel inside your mind—there should be a softly glowing door—look for it." When she continued to gape at him wide-eyed, he demanded, "Now! Do it now!"

Katara squeezed her eyes shut, but her own rising alarm prevented her from focusing her mind. "Aang, what's wrong? What am I looking for?"

Aang crushed her to him, realizing with her strangled, "Oh!" that he was hurting her. He closed his eyes, looking for his own door. It was there, but when he pressed against it, once again he felt active resistance. _That's not possible . . ._ "No . . ."

"Aang, what's happening?"

Aang drew a deep breath, attempting to find a measure of calm. "I messed up Katara. I'm so sorry—I can't believe I could be so incredibly stupid."

Katara's eyes sprang open, and she clung to the linen of his robe. "Aang—tell me what's wrong."

Aang released her, turning away to walk towards the edge of the clearing. He wanted to take a closer look at those flagstones. _Maybe if we leave the inside of the ring . . ._ He could hear her robe rustle through the tall grass as she followed behind him.

"That Airbending marriage ceremony? It wasn't just a marriage ceremony . . . it was a soul-binding."

He felt a warm hand slip into his and squeeze his fingers. "Stop. What does that mean?"

Aang turned to face her, taking another deep breath. He reached out, taking her shoulders in his hands, in part to reassure her, but mostly to tether himself. "I didn't realize until you put all the parts of the last line of the rite together, but it was actually a soul-binding. After we . . ." Incredibly, he felt heat rush to his face. " . . . well, _after_ , I can remember seeing a knot of twisting bright blue light that seemed to be calling to me. I couldn't resist it, and I reached out my chi and touched it. Katara . . . I think that was the soul-binding. I think that the spirits reforged our chis together—they are now inseparable."

"Oh . . . OK. That doesn't sound so bad—you frightened me—I thought something really terrible had happened. I kind of remember something like a dream—there was a tendril of . . . smoke? But bright like lightning—it glowed like it was made of light."

Aang groaned. "This isn't supposed to be possible—I thought it was a myth! Remember the part of the scroll that I thought was just a poetic discussion about the spiritual nature of marriage?"

"Uh huh . . ."

"The part about binding souls so they will be able to cross together into another life?"

"Uh huh . . ."

"And how I didn't think I translated the part about walking amongst the spirits and receiving the approval of the spirits right?"

"Yeah . . ."

"It wasn't poetry—those were _instructions_. The passage didn't say 'approval of the spirits'—it said _consent_." Katara's eyes widened. "We are still in the middle of the rite—this isn't over. I think we've been transported to the spirit world because the spirits have consented to the soul-binding . . ."

"And?"

"Katara, you've been soul-bound to the _Avatar_. Our chis have been forged so that they are now one—they could not be separated without destroying both of our souls. You're going to be tied to my soul for _eternity_." Aang cupped her face with both of his hands, his boring into hers, searching for comprehension. "After this life, I will be bound to serve all of my future lives, and I think . . . I think that you will now be bound _with_ me. Right now, we are in a part of the spirit world that I've never seen. I don't know how to get you out of the spirit world if you can't find your path. I'm not even sure how I got you _in!"_

"You _didn't_ bring her in. We _invited_ her in."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Zuko slammed his shoulder repeatedly into the door until the latch snapped and he fell onto the floor. _How are they not hearing this?_ Actually, he really didn't want to know. Zuko scrambled to his feet and raced to the door of their room, shocked to find Aang and Katara locked together, both of their eyes blazing with blue light. _This isn't happening._

" _Damn_ it!" Zuko slammed a fist into the door jamb and screamed, "Uncle, they've _both_ crossed over into the spirit world!"

Iroh dodged a shower of ice shards and sent a blast of fire back at his hooded attacker, risking a glance into the house for a glance at his nephew. "How is that possible?"

Racing back to Iroh's side and sending a blast of fire at two more hooded attackers to their left, Zuko bellowed incredulously, "Does it _matter?_ I don't dare move them. Aang would find his way back, even if I moved his body—I don't know if Katara will be able to."

"I don't know if we have any choice. Aang is surely guiding her. We need to move them to safety _now_."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Aang turned, pressing Katara behind him with one hand, stepping into a fighting stance and swinging the other hand up to block. On one of the stones stood a very tall, pale woman in flowing saffron robes that drifted in the breeze, her Airbending tattoos faintly glowing. She seemed so familiar to Aang, as though from a distant dream. She held her hands palm to palm at her heart, offering the traditional Air Nomad form for respect.

Katara reached a hand forward and pressed Aang's hand down, stepped gingerly around him, and approached the woman slowly, bowing deeply before her and holding the low bow.

The airbender reached out long white fingers, placed them on Katara's cheeks, raised her face, and kissed her forehead. A soft golden light spread through Katara, emanating from the kiss and spreading through her body. Katara's feet lifted a few inches off the ground, and she hovered, elegantly perched as though upon wisps of the breeze itself. "Well met, daughter of mine. He has searched for you through one hundred and eighty-one incarnations, and it is with great joy that the spirits see you finally reunited."

Aang approached them, and he reached out to touch Katara's hand. When their fingers met, she laced her fingers with his and her feet settled back to the ground, the soft glow dissipating.

"Katara, who is this?"

Katara turned her dreamy, unfocused gaze to him, and he could see that the glow had not faded from her eyes—they burned from within as though shot through with starlight, flecked with gold. She smiled sweetly, "Aang, this is your mother." Katara tipped her head to the side and drew her brows together, returning her gaze to the White Lotus. "Pema . . ." Katara spoke as though from far away. "I remember now . . . you must have told me long ago . . . your name is Pema."

Pema smiled graciously. "That's right."

Aang looked around the clearing and back to Pema. "Where are we?"

Pema raised her palms in invitation, and upon each stone, the spirits of ancient Airbenders materialized, at first shimmering shades, but becoming more solid as though stepping through the light and shadows. The spirits alternated male and female, and beside Pema . . . Aang gasped. It was Gyatso. Aang raised a hand and reached out slowly, disbelieving, until Gyatso, pulled Aang into his arms for a brief embrace, nearly overbalancing now that Aang stood nearly a head taller than him.

Pema smiled fondly. "This place is called the Grove. The first air Avatar, Avatar Jampa, discovered that he could step into the spirit world at will through meditation. As the veil between the spirit world and the human world became more tightly woven, later Airbending masters discovered that the incense of the sky orchid could loosen the weft of this veil, and allow the spirits of the living to become untethered and to pass through. Over time, through custom, the female Airbenders came to be the guardians of the eastern and western gates to the spirit world, while male Airbenders took their places close to the northern and southern gates, located at the poles. The Grove is a place between the gates—it exists only in the spirit world and has no corresponding place in the human world. It is both within it and beyond it, and it is the sanctuary of the souls of our people, both during their human lives, and in the time beyond.

"For centuries, after air acolytes had completed their elemental training and received their tattoos, they advanced to their spiritual formation. During this time, acolytes learned to find their way to the Grove, and they would spend many hours here each day. Once they could confidently find their way here, there are paths that lead away into the spirit world above, and they would learn to negotiate their path to walk at will with the spirits."

Gyatso spoke up, "There once was a time when Airbenders from each temple congregated here. Even though our bodies may be separated by vast distances, our souls could convene in this place at will. This place allowed Airbenders to distribute their influence throughout the physical world, but still seek the companionship of the rest of our race in the spiritual world. As part of their formation, acolytes studied here under the guidance of the most ancient spirits themselves. Acolytes would also look for their twin soul in the Grove. If they were able to find them, they would travel to the Eastern Air Temple to be soul-bound. Airbenders had no need for a frivolous marriage ceremony—we are concerned with something far more enduring.

"For this reason, when Airbenders take a mate, it is not for a lifetime, but for an eternity. True marriages must be the joining of twin souls that complete one another—their connection must go beyond attraction and affection—their chis must be compatible. When their chis touch, they must harmonize. When the twin souls are forged together, they are far stronger than either of the individuals could have ever been alone."

Pema continued, "Even though husband and wife spent much of their time separated in the physical world, twin souls would meet each night in the Grove for spiritual communion and renewal. In this place, a lifetime of thoughts, memories, and feelings could be shared in a moment's touch, allowing a much deeper connection than could have been found with a mate with whom you were not soul-bound."

Katara touched her face where Pema had kissed her. "You gave me a lifetime of love in a single kiss . . . I knew your name because it came with your love . . . I remember . . . I remember you playing in the rain as a child . . . I know the words to songs you sang and . . . I know where—"

Another man, feeling oddly familiar, interrupted and addressed Aang sadly. "You have been alone for so very long. You have been misaligned from your twin soul since my wife," he turned to look down at the Airbender next to him and clasped her hand tenderly, "was called to the spirits during the birth of our third child. I survived her death for more than 80 years, during which her soul passed on twice to live different lives. For this reason, our souls became deeply misaligned, and I was the only one of the Airbender Avatars able to find my twin soul and marry." _This must be Avatar Jampa_ , Aang thought. Jampa was so far into Aang's past lives that he could not even recall his name before Pema had uttered it.

Pema tipped her head, regarding Aang curiously. "Aang, when you were in the ice, did you dream?"

Aang looked uncomfortably at Katara, and then back at Pema. "It didn't seem to me as though I was in the ice for very long, but yeah, I dreamt . . ." Aang jerked suddenly and turned to face Katara again. "I dreamt of _you."_

"We have discussed this for some time," Pema continued, nodding to her court, ranged around them, "and we believe that your soul refused to leave the ice until your chi could be reforged with your twin soul. The threat of Sozin's line was too great, and your spirit did not believe that it could continue until your chi was once again reunited and completed by the chi of your twin soul. When you believed that you would be taken from Gyatso, you were driven into the storm by your grief, and there you waited."

"Aang waited in the ice for me?" Katara asked, stunned.

Pema shrugged. "The soul wants what the soul wants. When you and your brother were in the water, your boat was drawn to the ice by a sudden and inexplicable current. Sensing that his twin soul had finally come, Aang drew you to him, like a lodestone. Aang has loved you and longed for you for thousands of years, waiting across many lifetimes for your soul and his to realign in their life cycles." Pema smiled. "He was unwilling to take one more single step without you, so he waited. He didn't love you from the moment he first saw you . . . he had been in love with you since long before you had even been born. Truly, his soul has yearned for yours all this time." Pema reached out and traced the lines of shells stitched into Aang's bracelet. Leveling her gaze upon Katara, she continued, "The sea and the sky and everything that laid between them indeed . . . scores of lives have laid between you, but now you have been reunited."

Aang looked nervously between Katara and Pema. "I don't know if Katara wants this . . . I didn't realize when we started the rite that she would soul-bound—"

Katara interrupted, tugging his robe so he would face her. "I told you a long time ago that my place would always be at your side, and nothing has changed. When the weight of being the Avatar was too heavy for you, I helped you carry the burden. If we are soul-bound, I will always be beside you, no matter how many lives you live." Taking Aang's hands in her own, Katara turned to Pema. "I accept the terms of the soul-binding."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The ice between their feet cracked, and the earth between Iroh and Zuko opened, showering ice and snow onto Toph as she emerged with Mai, Ty Lee, Suki, and Sokka. "Don't move them! Just get in the house and I'll wall us in."

Without waiting for acknowledgement, Toph raised sheets of stone, several feet thick, to either side of the house, forming an enormous earth tent. Sokka pulled the rest of the non-benders into the house, followed by Zuko and Iroh, who were covering Toph from attack as she sealed the front and back of the earthen fortress. They could hear the benders outside continue to pummel the stone with showers of ice, but unless there were earth benders in their number, there was no possibility they would be coming through those walls.

Toph closed the door and leaned against it, shivering and wet. "What's wrong?"

Toph could feel the tension in the room, hearts beating erratically, feet shifting nervously.

"Uncle and I promised we would stay _outside_ Aang's door."

Toph snorted. "Yeah, you promised you would guard them too, but that hasn't worked out as planned either."

Unflappable, Suki stepped in. "Perhaps we should make ourselves comfortable? It's probably best we all stay until morning and wait for Hakoda to sort out the clans. Iroh, perhaps you could make some tea?" Suki crossed to the bedroom, and averting her eyes, slid the screen closed to afford Aang and Katara what little privacy she could. She then went to the next room where she had helped Kanna pack away extra blankets and pillows into trunks.

The tension thawing with Suki's initiative, everyone started settling in for the night.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Pema and Gyatso exchanged a warm, knowing smile. "We thought would say something like that. Please face your twin soul and rejoin your hands." Aang and Katara faced one another, and placed their hands palm to palm.

Pema continued, "Since ancient times, Airbenders were bound with a cord silk spun and woven of the maine of the lion-turtle during their soul-binding as a physical link tying their souls to this place and to each other. It allows them to travel together and calls to the spirits, pleading for their consent. After their union, it is ever the symbol of their bond and as a relic of the spirit world creates a path by which they will always be able to reach one another in this place, no matter how they are separated by time or distance. Although many of us here gathered have been re-bound to our twin soul scores of times over the millennia, today we are gathered here to witness the re-forging of Aang and Katara into their second bond."

As one, Pema and Gyatso stepped forward, Pema to Katara's side, and Gyatso to Aang's. Aang's heart felt as though it would burst, knowing that for this one moment, in this one place, he was surrounded by all the love of his past and all the joy of his future. To Katara's right wrist, Pema tied a thinner length of the silk cording, and Gyatso tied one to Aang's left wrist, the hands that were bound in the physical world.

Aang turned to meet Gyatso's grey eyes, and he was unable to blink away the tears of joy and gratitude that stung, finally overflowing his lashes. Gyatso smiled, and pulled Aang's face down to his own, forehead to forehead, eye to eye for the first and last time as father and son.

"She is a rare wind, that one." Gyatso's eyes sparkled with joy. "She is fire and ice and storm and rage and birth and death and healing and love. She is a gentle spring rain, the howl of a hurricane, the water of life, and your joy can only rise within the tide of her love. Do not allow yourself to be parted from her again—you have been lost for so long without her beside you. Do not allow yourself to step into the next life without her." Gyatso kissed him, and he was gone.

Pema caressed Katara's face. "Good bye, my sweet one. We may not meet again for many lifetimes, but you will carry my hope and love and blessings with you always. Gyatso and I have lingered in this place for a hundred of your years with our dear ones, knowing that someday you would find him again and need our help to reforge your chis. The time has come for us to step into the next life. Love him well and allow nothing to part you." Katara blinked, and Pema's caress was replaced by a breath of wind, a warm breeze that played over her cheek.

The souls of the other Airbenders shifted, trembling, and they too began to fade, but Katara and Aang could feel love of the departing souls pressing into them and flowing through them like a current. Katara captured Aang's gaze once more, and in these last moments between them, one only saw the other. They did not see the grove around them fade, how the grass at their feet ceased to be, or notice how the breeze in the trees calmed. Soon they were alone in the nothingness of eternity, suspended in an endless field of stars, the potential of all that ever would be laid out before them. Aang realized that the starlight that he thought was reflected in Katara's eyes was actually within her, and they had become part of the infinite.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

In the morning, Aang woke first, and immediately noticed something was different. _Actually,_ he mused caressing the side of Katara's face, _lots of things are different, but something_ sounded _different._ He untied the cording from their bound hands and rose from the bed, massaging his cramped hand, his wrist chafed and sore from the hours being bound. He realized immediately that the lion-turtle silk cords tied around their wrists in the spirit world had apparently travelled with them; each carrying two simple wooden beads. _One for each soul-binding._ However, instead of being knotted, they appeared as though they had been woven around the wrists themselves—perfect rings of silk with no beginning or end. Smiling at the memory of how they came to be there, Aang pulled the coverlet over Katara before closing his robe and crossing to the closed screen.

Words simply failed as he goggled slack-jawed, surveying the destruction. Iroh was sprawled on a pallet next to the fire, snoring softly. Sokka and Suki were curled up together on the cushions before the low table, a down-filled quilt pulled over them. Ty Lee was curled like a cat under a parka on the other set of cushions. Toph had pulled Bato's carved bench in front of the door, bracing it shut, and her legs dangled over the arm of the bench, one arm flung over her face and the other falling off the edge, fingers trailing on the floor as she snored. Zuko alone was awake, though clearly exhausted, propped in a corner with his head against the wall and Mai asleep across his lap, covered by a woolen blanket. He had obviously made himself stay awake, ensuring their safety.

Aang finally sputtered, "What . . . no, how . . . I thought you said . . ." Aang scrubbed at his face and covered his mouth with one large hand as he considered the scene before him. Finally, he jumped to the most important question. "Anyone dead?" When Zuko yawned broadly and shook his head, Aang continued, "Fine. I'm going back to bed."

Aang huffed into the bedroom but returned immediately, stepped carefully between the limbs of the sleepers, and handed another blanket and pillow to Zuko. "Well, at least you found your wife. Try to get some sleep."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Katara woke as Aang snuggled back under the covers, and, shrugging out of the linen robe, curled back around Aang, fully intending to continue where they had left off the previous night. Aang laughed nervously as her hands explored his bare skin, and he gathered her to him, kissing her on the forehead.

"Now might not be the best time—ah!" Aang closed his eyes and swallowed hard, trying to ignore the luxuriously enjoyable ways she was pursuing her intent. "Katara—" He choked on her name and gasped again. "Katara, the whole family is here."

Katara's head reemerged from beneath the covers. "What? Where?"

Aang inclined his head, tipping his chin in the direction of the sliding door, only a sheet of rice paper separating them from their guests.

"When you say 'whole family' . . . you mean Sokka and Suki . . ."

"Mmm hmm . . ." Aang lifted his eyebrows, encouraging her to continue.

Katara's voice dropped into a growl. "Zuko?"

Aang nodded, smirking. "And Iroh."

"Anyone else?"

"No . . . _well_ , I mean it's not everybody unless Toph, Mai, and Ty Lee are here too, is it?"

Katara flipped the covers back and rocketed out of bed. "I'm going to kill them, and I'm starting with Zuko."

Aang barely reacted fast enough to catch her by her wrist and pull her back into bed. He turned her and gathered her back against his side, laughing. He held her tightly with the bottom arm while trailing the fingers of the other hand down her curves. "I really don't think you're dressed for it." He kissed her gently on the lips, and continued, "You might get burned somewhere . . . sensitive." And he chuckled quietly as she squirmed and squeaked in response to his touch. "Besides, everyone else is still asleep. I just thought I would mention it before you got too committed . . . or too loud."

Katara smiled slyly and propped herself above Aang. "So maybe if we're not too loud . . ."

"Maybe . . ."

Someone pounded on the sliding screen, making it vibrate in its channels in the floor and ceiling, causing them to both nearly jump out of their skins.

"There is no amount of quiet that is going to hide precisely what you're doing from my feet! Put some clothes on, Twinketoes, and get out here!"

Aang groaned. Katara flipped over, ready to challenge their unwanted guests. "Toph Beifong, when I—" Aang clasped one hand over Katara's mouth and scooped her to his chest with the other. Whatever Katara was about to say was instantly cut off, but they could still hear her muffled shouts against Aang's palm in the next room.

Laughing darkly, Toph turned to the room, palming her fist. Everyone was now awake and rubbing bleary eyes. "Time to wake up, Sugar Queen!"

Aang rolled to the other side, pulling her with him, and she began to giggle. Trapped in his arms, her legs flailing wildly over his side, he began kissing her as vigorously and loudly as possible, pounding the wall above the bed rhythmically with the flat of his hand. When the collective groans of embarrassment and disgust sounded through the screen, Aang and Katara erupted into laughter outright.

Pink, tangled, and entwined, Aang gave her one last deep kiss, whispering, "Don't go out looking for a fight. I just got my twin soul back, and I'm not ready to lose her again."


	13. CH 13: Tides

I own no part of Avatar: Fan fiction only.

A/N: Please be advised, this is basically straight up lemon. If you aren't interested or are under 18, go ahead and skip it—the plot isn't moving very far. Zuko gets caught in the edges of Aang's extended chi and kicks everyone out so Aang and Katara can be alone. Aang and Katara are exploring the implications of the soul-binding.

Tides

Aang rested his lips against bridged hands, watching Katara, Suki, and Iroh bustle around the open brazier companionably, cleaning fruit, brewing tea, and steaming rice. He couldn't take his eyes from her. When her hair swung over her shoulder, the skin at the base of her neck was exposed as she leaned forward, lifting several stacked steamer baskets from over the merrily boiling water. He allowed his eyes to languidly travel over the flickering light playing over her neck, imagining trailing wet kisses down her silky skin. He heard her draw in a slow deep breath, a smile warming her lips, and she closed her eyes and traced the path he'd imagined kissing. Aang was intrigued. _It was as though she felt the touch of my thoughts._

Katara placed the basket on the mat in front of her folded legs, about to lift the lid on the top steamer. Their brief and frenzied coupling the night before hadn't been ideal for the kind of exploration of her body that he'd been imagining for their wedding night. He allowed his thoughts to drift back to the many fantasies that he'd locked away at the back of his mind, repressed but distilled through many years of chaste affection, her teasing presence always so near and yet so unreachable.

Curious to find out if there was any merit to the idea that she could feel his thoughts, Aang imagined the sensation of sliding his hands from her neck, wrapping them around the toned muscles of Katara's back, his thumbs trailing down her spine, his fingertips following the curve of her ribs until he reached her hips where he would separate his hands, reaching long arms around her to caress the top of her shapely legs. He watched her through barely open eyes, and she seemed to have frozen in place. _Interesting_ . . .

He imagined his body wrapped around hers, her back cradled by his chest, and he watched as she leaned back, resting her hands on the floor behind her, and Katara tipped her head back as though to rest it where she expected his shoulder to be. With growing arousal, he imagined curling his fingers around the curve of her legs, his pinkies just inside the bend of her knees, and drawing cupped hands up the inside of her thighs. Katara drew a deep shuddering breath, and he continued in his reverie.

In his mind, he drew his thumbs down her belly to the thick curls below, using his fingers to gently stroke and tease the moist lips at her core. Finally, he imagined sliding the tip of a single long finger inside, stroking the folds within, inching slowly deeper and relishing the gathering moisture of her tightening arousal. Katara's back arched slightly, and he could see the arms supporting her tremble slightly. Grateful that his position at the low table hid his own now urgent arousal, he imagined sweeping a finger over her swollen sex . . . he registered her sharp breath of pleasure . . . and he imagined plunging two fingers rapidly into her several times. Katara sat up sharply and stifled a squeak of surprise.

"Katara, are you alright?" Suki and Iroh looked up at her in concern.

Blushing furiously, she stammered, "I'm fine—I just burned my fingers on the steam." Tossing a breathless glance at Aang over her shoulder, Katara continued, "I guess I'm distracted this morning. It was a long day yesterday."

Toph leaned forward on her bench, smirking as she felt Aang and Katara's heart rates soar together, though oblivious to the cause. Under her breath, she muttered, "I'm sure you are."

Sitting next to Aang, Zuko had noticed that his friend was positively radiating power. It was pouring from Aang's body, like heat from a bonfire. On the few times he'd been in close proximity to Aang before he entered the Avatar state, he had noticed something similar, the air itself around Aang thickening and becoming heavy, inaudibly crackling. Looking sharply now at Aang, he appeared to be almost drifting into a doze, his head propped on his hands, but the waves of power that were coming off him were physically pressing against Zuko's skin, making it crawl uncomfortably as though tiny tendrils of lightning snaked across the surface.

Zuko leaned into Aang's shoulder, asking quietly, "Are you alright?"

Aang's eyes sprung open and he turned his gaze to Zuko, still resting his head on his bridged hands. Aang smiled sleepily, and Zuko was relieved to feel the pressure of Aang's power pull back abruptly. "Of course. I'm just tired—to complete the Airbender rite, we both spent a great deal of time in the spirit world last night. It was taxing guiding Katara back out . . . I'm just tired."

"What are you bending?"

Surprised, Aang's brows shot up. "Nothing. I'm struggling to just stay awake." He ignored Toph's grunt of amusement from across the fire.

Zuko snorted. "Whatever you're doing, stop. Power is pouring out of you in massive waves. I can't believe that you don't feel it."

Aang shrugged and vigorously rubbed his face with both hands. Internally, he followed the lines of his chi through his body, and was surprised to find Zuko was right—in his reverie, he hadn't noticed that he'd allowed it to flow unchecked, his chi no doubt following his thoughts to Katara. He heard Katara sigh and could see her shoulders shiver as he withrew his chi.

She turned, leveling a curious look at him. Something had happened—it was as though she had physically felt his mind withdraw. She knew the feel of _his_ hands intimately, knew the breadth of them, knew the length of each finger that she had felt intertwined with her own for so many years. She knew where each scar was, and could trace their paths in her mind as easily as she could trace the path of his tattoos with her fingertips. She knew the intensity of the heat that flowed from his palms and the precise pressure with which he touched her. The phantom touch that had pulled reluctantly away from her body could only have come from _his_ hands _. Of_ _course she can feel me,_ Aang realized _. Our chis are no longer separate . . . they will likely now push and pull together like the tides._

Aang turned to Zuko, who was briskly rubbing his arm under the heavy Fire Nation robes he'd had made specifically for this trip into the arctic. "Is that better?"

"Much. What were you doing?"

Aang considered. "I'm not sure, exactly. It's been an eventful couple of weeks and I've spent a lot of time convening with the spirits. I think I'm just tired." It took an effort, but Aang wrenched his mind away from Katara to focus on Zuko. Aang's eyes travelled over his friend's face. Zuko's eyes were blearily red, and strands of hair were straggling lankly down into his face. "Thank you for watching over us last night—you must be exhausted yourself. Once again, we owe you our lives. What happened?"

Zuko explained what little they knew, and Aang nodded in thanks when Katara placed a steaming bowl of rice in front of him. Though still listening to Zuko, he allowed his gaze to follow his wife as she arranged herself on the cushion across from him with her own bowl. Their eyes met, and he felt curiosity, affection, and lingering arousal flow through their new link. Smiling, he caught her hand and squeezed it, stroking a thumb lightly over the back of her knuckles. He allowed his love to wash back over her, feeling his own arousal begin to once again pique.

Zuko shivered. "What are you _doing?"_

Distractedly, Aang responded, "I'm listening . . . go on."

Zuko frowned. "I know you're listening, but what are you doing? I can feel your power vibrate like a plucked string."

"Really? Huh." Aang released Katara's hand and leaned back against the wall behind him, considering her. He drew up a knee and clasped his hands around his folded leg.

Lowering his voice, he explained, "The Airbender ritual?" Zuko nodded. "It wasn't just a marriage rite—it was a soul-binding." Aang tipped his head at Katara. "I didn't realize what was happening until it was done and over, but the spirits bound our chis together."

"I didn't know that was possible."

Aang shrugged expressively. "I didn't either, but I assure you, it is done." Aang turned back to Katara. "When you were at the fire just now, did you feel my thoughts?"

Aang appreciated her deep blush that rose immediately . . . _spirits, she was beautiful_. Katara squirmed uncomfortably on the saffron cushion, and rubbed the back of her neck, looking at him pointedly.

"Yes . . . I rather think that I did."

Aang smirked, and when he glanced back at Zuko, he saw his friend shift uncomfortably. He could see Zuko's own blush rising slowly out of his high red collar. Aang laughed, his hand following the path of his arrow as he rubbed the top of his head in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry Zuko! It appears I need to relearn how to manage the flow of my—" Aang's eyes flicked back to Katara, " _our_ chi. I think you got caught in the current of my thoughts."

Clearly flustered, Zuko muttered, "Look to that, would you? I doubt any bender with any measure of power at all is going to be able to stand to be within a fifty yard radius of the two of you until you do. The pressure of your chi upon my own was _palpable_." Zuko closed his eyes, reaching out towards both of them with his own energy, but then allowed it to snap back. "It's like your power has compounded—I can feel it radiate off both of you like a blaze." Zuko rose abruptly. "Toph, I think we've given Hakoda more than adequate time to get his tribe under control—get us out of here. We've indulged in the Avatar's hospitality long enough."

After a few minutes of bustling around the room, Aang and Katara's 'guests' filed out into the brisk arctic wind. Quilts had been hastily folded and returned to chests in the next room and tea cups clinked as they were piled precariously on the low bookshelf along the wall. Toph had attempted to rouse Aang's ire a few times, teasing him about needing more time to be acquainted with his bride. Zuko shut her down immediately, and she pouted, arms crossed as he loomed over her. Zuko ushered everyone out with the kind of haste and sense of urgency that only Zuko could inspire. He and Toph were the last to leave, and before Zuko pulled the door shut behind him as best he could with the broken latch, Aang heard Zuko tell Toph quietly, "Wall them back in. I don't want them disturbed again until this matter with the Water Tribe is resolved."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Aang waited only long enough to feel Toph close the earthen fortress around their home before he stepped around the table and kneeled on the cushion at Katara's side. Katara cut a glance at him across the steaming lip of her tea cup.

"What was that, exactly?"

Aang laughed sheepishly. "I'm really sorry—you looked so lovely leaning over the fire making rice—I couldn't help but think about how much I'd like to kiss you. But then you touched precisely the place where I'd imagined kissing you, and I sort of wondered . . ."

"Wondered what?"

"I wondered if the soul-binding would allow my thoughts and feelings flow back to you . . . did they?"

Setting down the tea cup, Katara turned to face Aang. She closed her eyes, and imagined kissing his jaw, just below his ear lobe, following the line of his chin to his long thin throat, and then trailing her tongue down the column of his neck. Rewarded with Aang's soft, deep breath, she imagined spreading her hands across his chest and pressing him back into the cushions, so that she could trail her fingertips across his ribs . . . a sharp breath . . . _he must be ticklish there_ . . . and kissing her way down the midline of his body until her lips found his trembling arousal. In her mind, she teased his head delicately with the tip of her tongue, tracing its contours and enjoying her husband's long, soft groan of pleasure, feeling her own arousal gather inside her. When she imagined taking him into her mouth, gently sucking and swirling her tongue across the tip, Aang choked out, "Stop . . . I get it . . . it works—" Katara grinned at his gratifying gasp as she imagined increasing the pressure and wrapping her hand around his length, gently stroking him. " . . . It works both ways."

When Katara opened her eyes, she found her husband laid back against the saffron cushions, almost writhing in pleasure. Managing the flow of her chi and communing with the spirits had not been part of her training, so the was something she was familiar with through Aang, but not something that she had really attempted or even considered trying herself. Now, though, when she shifted her conscious thought from her husband to her chi, she could almost see it laid out before her like tendrils of water, glittering before her and flowing like a river between herself and Aang. Taking a slow deep breath as she had seen Aang do when gathering his chi after battle or before a particularly difficult bending, she could consciously recall it. When she did, she could see and feel him relax, though the affect of her thoughts on him was clearly visible.

With smug satisfaction, Katara watched Aang sit slowly up, and she purred, "I was perfectly clear about what precisely was on your mind."

Aang was eager to explore the implications of the way their thoughts and sensations rebounded to one another through the soul-binding. He leaned forward to kiss her gently. "I wasn't quite finished with my thought earlier. Perhaps my wife could find the time to allow me to elaborate further . . . ?"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Without waiting for her answer, Aang had gathered his wife into his arms and carried her promptly back to bed. He noticed the answering swoop in his own stomach that mirrored her surprise as he lifted her. When she giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck, he felt a bubbling joy build within him that he knew was hers alone, completely separate from the warmth that was his, building due to the kisses climbing up his neck.

Eager to make love to his wife again, he was still wary of his own strength. He tried to hold his mounting desire in check, keeping his touches light and gentle when what he really wanted to do was to crush her beneath him and ravage her flesh, giving in to the full weight and urgency of his need. He held her face between his hands and kissed her, teasing his tongue over the shape of her bottom lip tasting the tartness of the fruit from breakfast. When he took her lip gently between his teeth, sucking gently, he felt her pleasure echo back through the link of their soul-binding . . . _she likes that_ . . . and Katara's arousal soared when she felt his acknowledgement flow back to her.

Their lovemaking became a wordless, tactile game, a touch answered by a thought, blood quickening and sighs released. He ran a fingertip down her spine, and he laughed breathlessly as he felt through the link that he had tickled her. _Slower_ . . . came the answer through his mind, and he tried again, this time using the entire breadth of his hand, and was gratified to feel her enjoyment flood back to him as the warmth of his palm spread across her skin. He stroked the tender skin of her breast, thrilling at her answering pleasure when he ran first a thumb, and then a tongue over her nipple. A gasping _suck_ came through their link, and he happily obliged, allowing his hands to roam over the rest of her body, across her belly, down her thigh, and teasing at the lips of her moist need.

The nervousness of all young lovers that had left him trembling at the door the previous night was gone. Knowing that he would know immediately if his touch had pleased her, being able to sense what she wanted through the strength of their binding erased his self-consciousness. He worked his way down her body, kissing, caressing, rewarded frequently with sighs of contentment, goaded on by her arousal raging through their linked chi.

His resolve to hold his ardor in check for the sake of Katara's enjoyment was nearly shattered when she pressed him back insisting on her turn to touch him, and she could feel his desire held back tenuously. Feeling its depth, that it ran to the core of who he was, that it was braided throughout every fiber of his chi only fed her already raging need. She provoked his desire, aching to open the floodgates that held his emotions back.

She knew that his sweet demeanor and loving grace, though his primary disposition, always carefully restrained deeper, more primal urges that few knew swirled within him, always fighting to emerge . . . his anger and rage that he only rarely allowed to burst through to fuel his ferocity in the heart of battle. She reached out with her chi, diving into his own, and she knew that an ocean of restrained aching desire was there as well, waiting for her. She opened her mouth to accept his tongue, and increased the pressure of her hands as she slid them over his back, squeezing the tight muscles of his buttocks, reveling in his repressed gasp of surprise and pleasure. She ground her body against him, trapping his engorged and trembling sex between them, and she smiled triumphantly when he was unable to stop himself from rocking his hips against her with a moan and she felt through their link that it required every ounce of his restraint not to press her back into the mattress and plunge into her. So she rocked back into him and felt the edges of his resolve flutter.

She slid away from his body, trailing kisses down his belly and taking him into her mouth, tasting his salty seed already so close to the tip. Harder . . . came through the link, but she only had a few seconds to continue before he abruptly drew away and roughly pushed her back, unable to wait any longer before joining with his wife. She had broken through his defenses, and all thought of gentleness and restraint had been shattered. He plunged deep into her and the waves of his pleasure that washed back to her through their link became inseparable from her own desire. His desire fed her own, and hers stoked his; in moments they were consumed in the conflagration.

As their pleasure built into a nearly intolerably intensity, sensation of such acuity that it approached but did not quite reach the point of pain, Aang felt a silent snap within himself. The restraint with which he had planned to make love to his wife fell away, and what remained was lifetimes of unrequited desire for his twin soul. Nights of burning, aching desire for a willing lover that laid inches away but whom he dared not touch had been pressed down within himself for years, choked back with the repressed sighs of pleasure from a thousand of her most casual touches. He cherished each one: her strong arms wrapped around him, the scent of her hair when she pressed her face into his chest, and countless chaste kisses that burned his lips long after her touch had flitted away. Each touch had been captured in his mind and cherished, though they would leave regret burning in his chest for hours afterwards for not having had the courage to pursue their intimacy further. The years of unfulfilled desires and hopes and dreams had opened within him a yawning chasm, a hunger that ran bone deep and ached to be filled with their union.

Their lovemaking became frenzied, his kisses possessive, demanding. She met his pace, stroke for stroke, her own ardor reaching a fevered pitch that took away all other sensation. She could no longer hear her own voice cry out his name or her moans of pleasure. She no longer saw the flickering lamp light or smelled the sweet oil of the lamps mingle with the tang of their sweat. She clung to him as though he was her salvation, riding out the ecstasy of their bodies crashing together in endless waves of long-distilled desire. Katara's world had shrunk and compressed to the feel of her husband, his strong arms bands of iron wrapped protectively around her, the powerful muscles of his back, his buttocks, his thighs, driving every inch of his hard, burning sex into her, thrust to his root each time and sparing her no respite. His skin was slick beneath her hands as she clawed him closer to her, desperate with her need, unable to find the purchase she desired to clasp him to her.

Bracing one hand by her head, Aang cradled her, slightly lifting and tipping her hips to permit him even deeper penetration. He moaned at the depth of his thrust when she braced her feet next to his knees, bridging her back slightly and wantonly spreading her thighs wider to open her hips to welcome him. Still, he wanted more. He scooped a hand under her knee and brought one of her legs to rest over his shoulder. Reeling in the pleasure of just a tiny increase in the depth of his stroke, he ached for yet more. Shifting his weight from one hand to the other, he scooped her other leg up without slowing his pace. Aang gripped Katara's hips, steadying her as he continued to drive his flesh into hers.

Katara was now dizzy with sensation, all coherent thought abandoned as she helplessly rode the waves of his passion. Through their link she could feel his unbridled need and desire unfurling like tendrils of smoke within herself, and his pleasure wound itself around hers, and when her desire peaked, she shattered completely. When Aang felt her body convulse with the pinnacle of her desire, the peak of her ecstasy flooded back to him as an overwhelming surge through their linked chi. He could only manage one more powerful thrust into Katara before becoming entirely unhinged himself, his seed flooding inter her.

Aang felt every muscle tighten and go rigid as he rode out the sensations pulsing through both of them, flowing between them, and he reveled at the feeling of her repletion rolling back to him through their link, his own fulfillment reflecting back to her.

Finally, with exquisite care, he gently untangled their limbs and gathered his boneless lover into his body. Her leg drifting up to rest over his waist, and their arms entwined around one another. Aang covered Katara's face and neck with breathless, clumsy kisses as she stroked her hand lazily down his shivering body. He released a sigh of deepest contentment. After years of unchecked and unacknowledged desire, night after night aching for her to complete him, he was finally, thoroughly sated.

"I get it now . . ."

Katara sleepily questioned, "Mmmph?"

"Why the soul-bound Airbenders were so thoroughly destroyed when their spouses died. Why they keened through the night and even the most powerful would sometimes lose the ability to bend and diminish to the point of death."

Katara lifted eyes bleary with passion and exhaustion to meet his. "Mmmm?"

Aang roughly cupped her face in the depth of his large hand. "I am finally complete. Possessing my wife, my twin soul, I have finally found the part of me that has always been missing. Now that I am whole, if our bond were severed, I know my chi would shred and I would be lost." Aang grinned. "I'm not sure how I'm going to manage to focus on anything else with you beside me."

Katara smiled and stretched her body against his to receive a slow, deep kiss on swollen lips. "I imagine you'll find a way. I have no doubt there will always be an endless line of people competing for your attention."

Aang considered for a moment, gazing deep into Katara. "They may compete for the _Avatar's_ attention, but there's never been any competition for _my_ attention. I have only ever needed you."


	14. CH 14: The Veil

I own no part of Avatar: Fan fiction only.

A/N: Lupita Leal and Kalaong, per your request, "bebe pronto" plus oogies. I wasn't planning on heading this direction, but anything for your enjoyment! I might actually use this chapter as a start for another story because it feels like this is going in a different direction. Thank you for sticking with me—I so appreciate everyone's reviews.

A/N: The Talent felt that there was just too much of a break in the time sequencing of the narrative. After considering, I've gone back and added a paragraph that will make it clearer why we have jumped to this place in time. I hope it helps! Thanks again to everyone for your kind reviews and suggestions.

The Veil

"It's OK if you don't get this right away. It takes Airbenders _years_ to master it—you're expecting too much of yourself to try to do it in a few days."

It was hot. Ticklish strands of hair were plastered to Katara's face and neck in a combination of humidity, sweat, and frustration. Between the whining of the cicadas, beads of sweat crawling down her back, and her clothes plastered to her skin, she was having an enormous difficulty concentrating on the task at hand. Worst of all, there was no room left for her lungs to _breathe_.

Katara placed her hands in the small of her back for leverage as she stretched her spine up and back, trying to extend her ribs over the baby's stubborn position. She squeezed her eyes shut and tipped up her chin, as though just a little more extension on her part would help. The fool child had found a favorite position crossways within her body, head crammed into her pelvis while tiny toes flexed over the edge of her bottom rib on the opposite side. To make matters worse, she had found that when Aang was close and the baby could hear his voice, the child would _stretch_ , pushing even harder against the rib, which felt as though it was likely to snap off at any moment.

A cold damp cloth was draped around Katara's neck, and she felt Aang sit behind her and then scoot closer so that he could support her back against his body. Strong lean arms came around her and he stroked the taught skin of her belly as he coaxed her body back so that her head rested in the hollow of his shoulder. Groaning in a mixture of relief, discomfort, and frustration, Katara let herself go limp, flexing her back as much as the baby's bulk would permit.

Aang kissed her shoulder through the damp silk, working his way up to her neck while he massaged his thumbs into the small of her back to ease the pressure there. Katara rocked her head back to give him better access to her throat.

Aang smiled against her skin, and she felt his breathy laugh. "Does this help?"

"With the task at hand? No, but I like it anyway." Aang's hands slid from her back down to her hips and started to stray down her thighs. "Hunh uh!" Katara playfully slapped one of his hands. "No one told you to stop massaging my back. Your son is trying to break one of my ribs and suffocate me—it's the least you could do."

"You don't know it's a son . . . could be a _daughter_ ," he purred, obliging Katara by rubbing her back. "Lean forward." Katara leaned forward from her lotus position, allowing her belly to rest on her folded legs. Katara planted her elbows on her knees and took the cool cloth from her neck and covered her eyes with it instead. She cradled her sweat-slick forehead in her hands, pressing the heels of her hands through the damp cloth into her eye sockets to further blot out the afternoon haze. Aang's strong fingers worked their way up from the base of her back along her spine. He wrapped one broad hand around her neck to massage the taught bands of muscle while the other hand worried at a knot inside one of her shoulder blades.

" _Ohhhhh_ , no. I know it's a son." She threw a sarcastic glance over her shoulder and scowled at his broad smile. He never seemed to grow tired of this conversation, no matter how many times they had it. "He's got your height, my stubbornness, and Sokka's sense of humor. No _girl_ child would be so _obnoxious_ as to insist on lying diagonally across my body and staying there for two months. That's all you and Sokka." Katara leaned back into Aang's arms. She could feel his amusement building like bubbles through their link and feel his chest trembling with repressed laughter.

"If you loved me—"

"I _do_ love you . . ." Aang squeezed her and started to pepper her neck with brief, brisk kisses, and she tried to squirm away.

"If you _really_ loved me—" Katara twisted as much as she could manage, pushing against his face with both hands and squealing as he pursued her nonetheless. "You would use some of your _divine_ influence—" Aang ducked under one of her flailing arms and allowed her to twist out of his grasp long enough to pin her into the tall grass where he could continue kissing into the deep V of her Fire Nation silks. " _Stop!_ Your divine influence—"

Aang looked up, deeply entertained by Katara's protests and enjoying her resistance thoroughly. "You want me to do something divine?" He lifted his brows mischievously and slowly started to inch a hand back down her thigh.

"That's not what I said!" Katara was now nearly breathless between the baby pressing against her diaphragm and Aang's weight pressed across her body.

His hand continued its path as he purred, "I'd be happy to do something divine . . . all you had to do was—"

He laughed as she cuffed him in the ear. "I'm very pregnant—"

"I know. I _like_ it."

Katara rolled her eyes in exasperation. He'd made it abundantly clear that her pregnancy had done nothing to dissuade his interest . . . quite the contrary. "—and you're entirely to blame—"

"I _know_. I like that too!"

"—and you're making it impossible for me to concentrate!"

"It's not _my_ fault you're not concentrating. Let's go back to the part where you were telling me about how divine I am. That seemed to have promise."

"Are you listening?"

"Rapt." Aang had released her and laid on his stomach, his head propped on his hands so that their eyes were only a couple of feet apart. Katara reached out and caressed the side of his face where the golden afternoon light wrapped around his cheek.

"You're a clown," Katara delcared fondly. "You're leaving in two days. If I don't master this now, I won't be able to meet you in the Grove while you are gone."

It had been nearly a year since Katara had ventured into the spirit world with Aang to complete their soul-binding, and she had yet to successfully return. Since the soul-binding provided a way for them to remain connected while his duties required for them to be parted for weeks at a time, she was determined to master the transition to the spirit world before he left. Even when separated by great distances, she could get a sense of his well-being through their linked chi, but it wasn't the same as being able to speak directly to him or touch him, even if it was in the Grove. Although she hated to admit it to herself, she was also anxious that he was leaving when the baby was so close to coming. Even though he was due to return well in advance of her anticipated labor, knowing that she could reach him through the Grove comforted her.

"I'm only going to be gone for a few weeks, and you won't even have time to miss me. Mai will ply you with anything you can think of to eat . . ."

"It's too hot to eat."

" . . . you can stroll through the palace with Izumi . . ."

"Neither of us stroll. I waddle like a penguin, and Izumi only runs spirals from the floor to the walls to the ceiling."

" . . . you can research ancient Waterbending scrolls in the Fire Sages' library . . ."

"I stole them the last time we were here, remember? I'm going to be bored senseless."

"Maybe I can get Mai to teach you to throw knives . . . or I can see if Toph will come."

"Spirits, _no_. I'd rather just come with you."

Aang pushed damp tendrils of her hair out of her face. "I know—I would prefer that too, but Zuko is worried there's going to be another uprising. I'd feel much better if I knew you were here safe with Mai." He leaned forward and leaned his forehead against hers, and asked quietly, "Do you want to try again?"

Katara rolled her eyes. " _No._ " Huffing, she continued, " _Yes_ , but why don't you go first this time. Maybe if you are already there, I can follow your chi."

Aang shrugged. He had been trying to encourage her into the spirit world from this side, worried that unless she could manage to find her way to the Grove on her own, she would get lost on the way. It couldn't hurt to try it the other way, though. Aang sat up and then helped her raise herself from her position flat on her back in the grass.

Katara huffed and then laughed at the ridiculous predicament. "I'm like a turtle duck stuck on its back!"

Finally arranged knee to knee in the shade of a flowering oak, Aang smiled encouragingly at his wife before closing his eyes and slipping effortlessly into the Grove.

Katara closed her eyes and tried to calm her mind. After several minutes of deep breathing, the cicada song and heat had started to make her sleepy, and she finally found stillness. She shifted her consciousness to focus on her chi rather than her discomfort, and she found it glittering before her. Katara reached out with her mind and drew it towards her, but found that it was tethered far into the darkness. Using the feel of their linked chis as a guide, she felt her way into the black. Finally she found resistance before her, and she extended her chi. Aang had described the passage into the spirit world like a softly glowing door, but Katara sensed more of a veil or membrane before her. She found that with just a bit of pressure, it relented, like the yolk of an egg broken by gentle prodding with a chopstick, and she stepped into the void, finding beyond it a reprieve from the heat and the rasping insects. When she opened her eyes, Aang was waiting for her, grinning from ear to ear.

"See, piece of cake!" Katara smiled, his excitement contagious. "Now, see if you can go back."

The smile slid from her face. "Go back? I just got here."

Aang clasped her hands. "I know, but you need to be able to find your way back. See if you can manage on your own. Getting here is usually the easy part—the real danger is in not being able to find your way back to your body."

Disgruntled, Katara closed her eyes. It took less time to find her calm this time, and now that she knew what she was looking for, she could easily grasp the threads of her chi and use it to lead her back through the veil to her body. Once she stepped through, she immediately registered the oppressive heat and the humidity that laid on her skin and heard the chorus of the cicadas.

Opening her eyes to find Aang waiting for her again, she exclaimed, "That was much easier! Let's do it that way from now on!"

Aang smirked, but seemed unsure. "We can, but you need to eventually be able to guide yourself without my help. Great progress, though!"

In the time remaining before he left, Aang and Katara practiced several times each day so that when he soared up to the top of Appa's saddle next to Zuko, she felt confident that she would be able to find her way to the Grove by following the path of his chi into the void. They agreed that they wouldn't attempt to meet in the Grove until the following night.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Momo had taken a great liking to Katara over the years, and was now more often her companion than Aang's, as Aang often had to leave Momo behind for more formal occasions. He settled happily on Aang's pillow next to Katara, and she watched his delicate ribs rise and fall slowly as he fell almost immediately into sleep. She felt herself drowsing, and decided to try to find her way into the Grove before she was too tired to try.

Katara closed her eyes and shifted her focus to find her chi. It was different this time . . . almost muted, and the color wasn't quite right. _Maybe it's because Aang is a day's travel from me_. When she reached out and grasped it, her chi danced sideways, no longer taught. With rising apprehension, she followed it quickly into the dark, anxiously pushing the veil away when she found it.

Katara opened her eyes to the Grove and found it peaceful as ever, but this time bathed in soft dappled light under an enormous moon. Expecting Aang to be waiting for her, it took her a moment to find him, and when she did, her heart nearly slammed to a stop.

Aang was curled into himself on his side, one arm cradled protectively against his chest. When she flung herself to the ground next to him, she was afraid to touch him, lest she damage him in some way. His robes were charred and smeared with soot, and his arms and face were covered with superficial burns and scrapes. She carefully turned his face to hers, and he slowly opened his eyes.

First alarm, and then recognition registered. "They are coming! Get out!"

Katara's eyes widened and she scanned the flickering shadows. "Get out of the Grove?"

Aang grabbed her arm in a vise-like grip. "Not the Grove, the Pal—" Aang groaned, clearly in pain, flickered, and was gone.


	15. CH 15: Bleeding Izumi

I own no part of Avatar: Fan fiction only.

Bleeding Izumi

Katara slammed her eyes shut and reached out for her chi, but only found blackness. She groped and flailed in the dark, but all she found was panic rising around her. _No no no no no no no . . . he's fine—I would have felt it if he was gone . . . I can't think about that right now . . . my chi is still here—I have to find it._ She forced herself to sit in the Grove, drew her hands into fists and braced her knuckles together. _Out . . . in . . . out . . . in._ She breathed. Knowing that she could not depend on Aang to guide her out this time, she reached in her mind for something that she knew was tethered in her own body, something she had felt twisting within her, caressing the edges of her mind and her chi. She reached out for the baby's chi.

Focusing on this one thought, her breathing slowed, and the soft blackness of her path settled around her. Finally, she saw something flickering in the distance. It danced tremulously—a faint green flame, a wisp of smoke.

As she moved toward the green flicker, she could discern the fibers of her own chi. They had been scattered, like the warp threads on her grandmother's loom, slipped off their hooks. Although panic pressed at the back of her mind, suggesting that she didn't have the time to gather and re-form the threads of her chi, she was far more afraid of what would happen if she did not. She knew that in this place, time did not work the same, that Aang could seem to be in the spirit world for only a few minutes, but when he returned, he explained that he had been there for days. She forced herself to gather each faintly glittering strand together, smoothing them between her hands. When she pulled the fibers through her fingers like threads of fine silk, they realigned, and she found that they fused together and began to glow again. Gradually, the green tendril began to snake along the length of her gathered chi, wrapping around it like ivy.

 _Breathe_ . . .

The command filled her, and she knew that Aang, wherever he was, was lending what strength he had to guide her. Knowing that their link was still intact calmed much of the panic that was making her hands shake. She took a slow deep breath, and blew it out evenly. The light from her chi intensified, and she was able to see that there were two more strands that she had missed, and she gathered these.

Katara began to work her way back down the path of her twisting chi, taking a deep breath and looking carefully for any other dropped fibers. Finally, she met the resistance that she had come to associate with the veil that separated her two worlds, and she pressed through.

Opening her eyes and looking out the window, she could see that the moon hung in nearly the same place it had when she had entered the Grove. She was grateful she had taken the time to gather her chi back together; she suspected that she could not have pierced the veil to return to her body if she hadn't.

 _Get out!_ Aang's panic could not have been louder had he shouted in her face, and it ricocheted through their link, spurring her to immediate action. Supporting the weight of the child with one hand she rocketed out of bed and dressed in moments. She looked around the room for Momo, but he was gone, probably out for a late night hunt. The urgency that crackled through their link was making it hard to concentrate on anything other than the urge to flee, and she ground her teeth together in an effort to focus. Boots, bag, water skin. Katara pulled a long black cloak over her clothes ran to the door of their apartment.

Katara burst through the door, startling the guards that stood silhouetted at the end of the hallway. Without knocking, she pushed open Mai's door and charged through the handsome sitting room directly into Mai's bedroom.

"Mai!"

A blade sliced through the dark, and Katara barely evaded a serious blow as it grazed the top of her ear. Katara absently brushed away the warm trickle that itched its way down her neck.

"Katara?"

"Get up—we have to go _now!"_

Mai asked no questions. A lifetime of crises had taught her to be prepared, act first, and ask for answers later. Katara opened Mai's wardrobe and grabbed a bag she knew Mai kept packed and ready to depart at a moment's notice. When Izumi wandered from her room into Mai's, Katara hoisted Mai's bag over her own shoulder, and lifted Izumi into her arms without breaking stride as she stormed into Izumi's room.

"Mommy, what's happening?"

Mai looked up from buckling a strap under her arm. "Go with Auntie Katara—put on your hunting clothes as quickly as you can."

Katara rummaged through a drawer, pulling out simple black linen trousers, shirt, and knit hood. She tossed these to Izumi who quickly pulled them on before slipping into the tiny leather slippers that she used for training. Katara grabbed her hand and started to tow her out of the room, but Izumi stopped her. "Not yet, Auntie Katara!"

Izumi threw back the lid of the lacquered chest at the foot of her bed and drew out a leather harness that she drew over her head and buckled expertly at the shoulders. "Mommy would never want me to forget my blades." Izumi drew out a pair of butterfly blades, normally concealed in the sleeves of an adult, and slid them into the scabbard on her back. They were a nearly identical replica of Zuko's own pair of dao, but with the addition of a hooked crossbar.

"You're right, lovie, she wouldn't, but we have to hurry." Katara had no doubt that a multitude of other blades were concealed under Izumi's clothes as well, but she also knew that at the age of three, Izumi could reliably throw a blade and pin a moth to a wall from 20 paces, and that Zuko had already started teaching his daughter basic dao forms. Some children learned to juggle . . . the children of the royal Fire Palace learned to kill with alarming speed and accuracy before they learned their letters.

When Katara and Izumi returned to Mai's room, Mai was dressed and speaking urgently with the guards. Mai turned to Katara. "Do we need to evacuate the palace, or just move ourselves?"

Katara took a breath and tried to press the question back through her still vibrating link to Aang. _Get out!_ was the only response that still flooded her mind. She had to decide—was it the entire palace at risk, or just them?

"To be safe, evacuate everyone, but do it quietly. Send us along a different path . . . we need to get to the water." Turning to one of the guards, she asked, "Can you send my hawk to me?"

The guards bowed and set off at a run. Mai followed them to the door and bolted it.

"Izumi, fuse the lock." Itzumi stepped into a low stance, spiralled her hands apart and then snapped them together, directing twin streams of lightning at the door, melting the hand-wrought ironwork in seconds.

Katara blinked, hard. "I didn't know Izumi could bend lightning."

Mai was busy searching for the clasp of a mechanism beside one of the towering windows of the room, but answered over her shoulder, "No one does. From the time she could walk, she could summon wispy tendrils of lightning—they would cover her hands and arms like cobwebs. It turns out she's even more prodigious than Azula, but we've kept it very quiet. Zuko and Iroh train her in the catacombs in private."

Mai's fingers finally found the latch, and the woven mat below the window popped up a finger's width from the floor. Mai pushed back the mat and pressed the panel of wood flooring back into the opening. "Let's go."

Mai descended the ladder followed by Izumi. Katara worked her way awkwardly down the ladder, pulling the mat back over the opening before she descended and snapping the panel of flooring back into its spring-loaded mechanism. Katara reached the bottom of the ladder panting, her arms and legs shaking from the effort of holding her body away from the rungs to accommodate the baby's girth as she descended.

"Izumi, light. A small one."

Izumi called a flame to her tiny palm. She looked up at her mother for confirmation, and when Mai gestured with her chin, Izumi sent the fire in a small, tight ball racing down the corridor.

Mai set off at a blistering sprint, following the light as it hurtled down the corridor. Stooping slightly to try to brace the baby's weight with one hand, Katara loped behind Mai as quickly as she could manage, holding Izumi's hand as they ran. Knowing the way was clear and the floor even, Katara and Izumi continued running in the dark long after Izumi's flame had faded into the distance.

Finally, Katara and Izumi could run no more, and they slowed to a walk, trying to prevent themselves from gulping for air. Katara allowed one hand to trail the wall, and soon, the stones below their feet began to slope downwards and the stones beneath her fingers were growing cool and damp with condensation.

After a few minutes, a barely discernable glitter shifted at what must be the end of the corridor. As they neared, they could see a figure, just another shade among shadows that vaguely held Mai's shape. Katara and Izumi reached Mai's side, but she held out an arm, blocking their advance.

Katara placed her lips close to Mai's ear and barely dared to breathe, "What is it?"

Katara perceived, rather than felt Mai's nod toward the boat, gently bumping against the stone floor that slanted below the lapping water.

"There shouldn't be a boat. I chose the passageway furthest from our apartments, and it would never have been the one that the royal family would have chosen in an emergency. We passed through several other much more likely exits, but I chose this one. Someone is expecting us to come this way, and I would be surprised if they don't already know we are here."

Katara considered. "Or maybe _all_ the exits are guarded."

Mai hummed in assent.

"Let me try something." Katara took a deep breath and let it out slowly. _It wasn't yet the full moon, but this might just work anyway . . ._

Katara closed her eyes and laid a hand on the damp stone of the wall. With every breath, she pushed her awareness out, following the path of the water within the stone. She pursued it, leaping from drop to drop, casting her mind through the stone, until she could feel her way to the water lapping against the wall . . . and to the bodies of the three men waiting in the black water. Katara took another deep breath, and pushed yet farther. She followed the rivulets of moisture that creeped down the outer wall until she found at least two more bodies suspended against the stone, the sweat from their palms staining the stone with their rank stench. _They_ _must have climbed down from the parapets_ , she mused. Katara reached out a hand in the dark, straining her senses, searching . . . searching . . . and there it was. The blood throbbing through the veins of the two men waiting on the parapet for them to emerge.

"There's at least seven—three in the water, two on the wall, and two on the parapet above. With the moon setting on the other side of the palace, there's no way we are going to see them when we step out." Katara thought for a moment and continued, "I can grab the ones in the water and pull them under, but there's no way for me to reach the ones on the parapet before they run for help. Can you get them?"

"Yes. What about the two in between?"

Mai heard Katara's ironic snort. "I'll share them with you. Ready?"

Katara felt Mai's nod, so she extended her hands out, scooping water from deep in the bay, winding it into tentacles of thickened water. Katara lunged forward and circled her palms back towards her face and up. The tentacles shot up, wrapped themselves around the men's legs, and they were dragged down into the depths so quickly that they had no chance for breath or alarm. Katara bent the tentacles into thick bands of ice around their bodies when they reached the bottom. She snarled with satisfaction, having ended men so clearly bent on ending the lines of the last Airbender and the royal Fire Nation.

Mai stepped out into the musty, sodden summer night, sending blades first after the men on the parapet, and then looking for the men on the wall.

"Izumi! Light!"

Izumi and Katara stepped out as one, Katara shielding Izumi with her body. Katara swept an arm across her body, summoning a wave to sweep across the wall. Izumi stepped from Katara just for a moment to send a blast of flame towards the wall to illuminate Mai's targets. Katara had slammed the men to the wet pavers, crushing the skull of one man, but his companion had already drawn a blowpipe. The momentary flash of light from Izumi's fire was enough, and his dart dropped Izumi in a heartbeat. Mai sent 3 blades into his chest.

Katara scooped up Izumi as Mai retrived her blades, and both women barely made it to the boat before more darts rained down around them, pinging against the stone pavers like sleet. When Katara pulled a sheet of ice over them, they could hear the darts thump into the ice.

Katara dropped Izumi as gently in the boat as she could and bent a massive wave that would carry it out to sea. "Mai! Is Izumi still breathing?"

Mai was cradling her daughter to her chest, and Katara could see the tracks of tears down her face in the light of the rising moon. "Yes! I can feel her breath, but it is faltering! Let me get the dart out . . . "

"No! Don't pull out the dart! I can try to draw the poison out by blood bending, but it will be incredibly painful for Izumi." Continuing to bend to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the palace, Katara met Mai's eyes. Mai nodded.

Katara scooped Izumi out of Mai's arms and cradled her across what remained of her lap. Mai stood, over them, bracing a foot on each side of the boat, perfectly balanced, four blades gripped between the fingers of each hand. Katara spread trembling fingers over Izumi's neck where the dart trembled against her fluttering pulse and closed her eyes, searching, sending her bending out in a ripple as gently as she dared, racing through Izumi's veins. Izumi whimpered, pulling her arms and legs into her body in protest at what was likely searing pain. Katara winced in sympathy, but could not stop until she found the toxin in Izumi's blood.

Finally she found it, spreading sluggishly through Izumi's blood, thick and tarry and . . . metallic. _Damn!_ A liquid poison she could just draw out—this was something else—it was a _contaminant._ Katara considered for a moment. Maybe she could use Izumi's blood to _force_ the poison back out.

"Mai—it's not poison—it's something else. I think I can get it out, but get ready. Izumi's probably going to scream . . . a lot."

Mai looked down at Katara, her mouth tightened in rage so that even her lips were white. She nodded curtly and turned her attention back to the glittering black water.

Katara's fingers snapped into a claw, and she froze every drop of blood in tainted with the poison. Izumi's eyes snapped open in a blind rictus of pain, her mouth gaping in a soundless scream. Katara ripped the dart away and tossed it into the bottom of the boat. Katara turned her wrist up and tightened her fingers into a fist, as though she held the line of a boat, and gathered the crystallized blood just beneath the wound before slowly drawing it out in a thread as fine as spun silk. Izumi started to whimper at first, but soon she was shrieking at full gale at an ear-splitting pitch.

"Hurry! They are going to find us!"

Katara drew her hand back over her shoulder and then flicked the blood away, careless of whether it landed in the boat, in the water, or splattered against their clothes. Draw after draw, yards of the icy blood thread emerged until finally Katara was drawing Izumi's fresh blood, using it to cleanse the wound. Izumi stopped screaming and drew a breath, blinked her streaming eyes, and reached for her mother. Mai stowed her blades and gathered Izumi into her arms.

"Izumi," Katara brought face nearly nose to nose with Izumi. "I'm sorry I had to hurt you, but I couldn't let the poison hurt you. Do you understand?" Izumi's lip trembled, but she nodded. "Izumi, can you make me a little fire?"

Mai's face crumpled in confusion. "Is that necessary?"

Katara grimaced. "I'm sorry, but these darts look so much like the ones that that rogue clan in the Southern Water Tribe used, and they were able to disrupt the bending of some of our best warriors for several hours. I need to know if this is the same poison."

Mai whispered to Izumi, "It's OK, baby, but I need you to make me some fire."

Izumi's eyes met her mother's, and Mai nodded reassuringly. Izumi turned to Katara and flourished her hand, the gesture so like Zuko's . . . but nothing happened. Izumi was stunned, and she tried over and over, finally dissolving in tears against Mai's shoulder when she was unable to produce even a spark.

Katara rubbed her back consolingly. "It's OK Izumi. I've seen this before, and your bending should be back in a few hours. You should rest." Meeting Mai's eyes, Katara continued, "We have to find somewhere safe for the night. I have to find Aang."

For the next hour, Mai rocked and sang her tiny Firebender to sleep, and Katara's arms and legs trembled in exhaustion as she bent their boat at a reckless pace, heading for one of the many uninhabited barren volcanic islands that dotted the outer rim of the fire nation. As the boat sped towards land, Katara's mind raced through a litany: _We have to reach land . . . We have to find a place to hide . . . I have to get to the Grove . . ._


	16. CH 16: Gathering Dawn

I own no part of Avatar: Fan fiction only.

Gathering Dawn

Aang struggled to open a single eye, but it was caked with muck. The other eye was pressed with the rest of his face into the mud. He blinked a few times and when his vision cleared, he saw Zuko's amber eyes wide with panic, boring into him. He froze, realizing Zuko's silent plea: _Don't move_.

Aang's eye travelled over what he could see of Zuko's prone form while taking stock of his own hurts. Like himself, Zuko had apparently been bound at wrist, knee, and ankle, and an additional line of rope had pulled even his elbows as closely together as possible, causing shoulder and chest muscles to cramp painfully. Aang could also feel needles of pain that ran the length of his right arm all the way to the shoulder with every beat of his heart, and he was sure that there was at least one bone broken in that arm. He was going to be of limited help in a fight, especially if he couldn't bend. Generally disgusted with their ridiculous predicament, he pushed distastefully with his tongue at the filthy rag that had been shoved into his mouth as a gag.

Zuko looked away pointedly and gave his head a slight jerk in the direction over Aang's shoulder before closing his eyes.

Aang realized the voices that had only been buzzing in the background were coming closer. "They were set to strike an hour ago. They should have the women in custody by now. It should be _child's_ play," Aang squeezed his eyes shut, straining not to react when a heavy booted foot landed a kick in his back, "to get cooperation from this worthless lot once we've got them." An amused grunt answered, and the voices retreated to the crackling fire. "All we need to do is wait—they are bringing the wenches and the whelp here."

Aang opened his eyes to another pointed look from Zuko, this time through eyes slitted with a combination of anger and concern. _Did you warn them in time?_

Aang closed his eyes and ran the length of his ragged chi. Katara had done an amazing job reconstituting it, and he smoothed it, binding it tighter as he followed its path. As he continued, Aang sensed Katara, exhausted, but obviously on her feet. He could feel her chi coil and release rhythmically with the force of her bending, and his heart swelled with pride. _Boys, you gotta try harder than that to catch_ my _wife._ The rhythm suggested that she was pushing water, maybe to propel a boat, but at great speed. He could feel the enormous power behind her bending, pulling even at the edges of his own. He had often wondered with their chis joined, if she could access his power as well.

Aang opened his eyes, cocked his brown, and raised the corner of his mouth in what was clearly meant as a smirk. Zuko visibly deflated in relief. Unfortunately, their own captors were likely to soon realize that the other team had been unable to capture the women, and sooner or later, they would realize that Aang and Zuko were awake as well. Aang knew that he wouldn't be able to try to reach Katara in the Grove again until they could escape because his glowing tattoos would attract their captors' attention. Their window of opportunity was closing every second they waited.

Aang breathed in deeply, cautiously feeling around the edges of where his bending should be, but something still felt off. It was much better since Katara had reassembled their joined chi, and he felt his connection to the spirit world clearly, but his _bending_ was something else altogether. He felt it there, practically sizzling right below the surface of his skin, but it felt scattered and unfocused, like the coals of a fire separated to diminish the intensity of the heat. The unfocused buzzing was almost maddening . . . _had Ozai felt this?_

There must have been something in those darts that was disrupting his bending. He hoped that it was temporary, but he didn't dare wait to find out. They were just going to have to do this the old fashioned way . . . stealth, brute force, and mostly luck.

Aang focused on Zuko again, and he sensed that Zuko's patience was running thin. Zuko looked from Aang to the men behind him and then back to Aang, lifting his brows. _Ready?_ Aang grimaced and shrugged the shoulder not lodged in the mud. _As ready as I'll ever be_.

Zuko lifted his head just enough to look past Aang's ear at the three men drinking at the fire. Their laughter was becoming louder and their speech slightly slurred. Clearly, they felt confident that the poison in the darts was sufficient to keep the Avatar and the Fire Lord subdued.

Zuko snorted in derision. Izumi was the first heir to the Fire Nation throne who wasn't regularly plied with small doses of a variety of venoms and poisons to build up immunity. He hadn't spent most nights of his childhood retching up one vile, black concoction after another for nothing.

Wriggling close to Aang so that they were pressed nearly nose to nose, Zuko snuck one bloodied hand down the length of Aang's arm, and his fingers walked like a spider down his skin, feeling for the ropes that bound his elbows and wrist. The base of his index finger and thumb gripped one of Mai's small, slender throwing blades, usually concealed in a sheath beneath his obi and secured against the small of his back. Finding the loop of rope at Aang's elbows, he hooked the blade beneath the rough rope, and Aang nearly groaned in relief when his elbows sprang apart and the tension was released from his chest and shoulders. Aang leaned his shoulder into Zuko's body to give Zuko better access to his hands. Aang winced and grunted softly as Zuko sliced his skin several times in his haste to work the blade under the bindings. Zuko huffed in frustration, the only apology he could afford, as he struggled to keep a grip on the narrow, curved handle of the blade that was becoming slick with Aang's blood. Once his hands were free, Aang ripped the disgusting rag out of his mouth, almost retching, while Zuko made quick work of the ropes on their knees and ankles.

Zuko cleaned the blade on the hem of his torn tunic before slipping it back into its sheath. Crouching in the diminishing shadows, he weighed in his mind the benefits of dealing with these foul men versus running. Zuko felt Aang's breath against his ear. "Let's just go. We have bigger problems than those three." Zuko nodded, and they crept silently into the fugitive shadows, fleeing before the touch of dawn.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

When Katara finally managed to bring the boat to the beach, she was visibly trembling, and Mai thought for a moment that she would have to help her out of the boat. After clumsily catching a foot on the side of the boat and nearly falling, Katara was in the water, towing the boat the last few yards to the coarse black sand. Katara took Izumi's sleeping form from Mai so she could climb out.

Taking Izumi back into her arms so Katara could bend the water out of their clothes, Mai nodded towards the base of the volcano, less than a quarter mile inland. "There is a small cave there that should give us some cover for a few hours at least. There's a freshwater spring close by as well."

Katara nodded. Turning back to the boat, she raised leaden arms to bend the boat back from the beach and swamp it. She pressed it back to the sand at the bottom of the ocean where it would stay safely hidden but readily available.

Katara shouldered both packs where Mai had dropped them in the sand so Mai could carry Izumi's limp form. Although the cave was fairly close to the beach, it took nearly a half an hour of careful maneuvering through the heavy vegetation, as they tried to leave as little sign of their passage as possible. Stumbling only a few yards inside the mouth of the cave, Katara's world tilted, and she only dimply registered that she had collapsed into the sand inside the cave.

Mai gently laid Izumi in the sand next to Katara. She eased the packs off Katara's shoulders and helped her out of her cloak. Mai carried Izumi to Katara's open arms. Katara was radiating moist warmth, and Izumi curled into it, forming her body around the curve of the baby. One tiny elbow rested on Katara's belly as Izumi sleepily popped her thumb back into her mouth and snuggled into Katara's breast. They were both soundly asleep before Mai shouldered her pack and headed out the mouth of the cave.

Even though she had dozed occasionally in the boat, lulled to sleep by Izumi's warmth and the soft rhythm of her thumb sucking, Mai was fighting exhaustion as she worked her way up the rocky slope of the volcano, looking for a higher vantage point. Mai looked east to where the sky had started to pale and searched the horizon, warily searching for the outline of pursuers.

Mai was of two minds. Her instinct was to run and keep running, but at this point, not knowing who their attackers had been or why they had attacked, she had no clear idea of where to go. She was also deeply concerned about the welfare of her daughter and her friend. With Katara's advanced pregnancy, she was hesitant to push her too hard; the last thing they wanted was for Katara to go into labor. The effort Katara had expended to affect their escape had left her drained, and they all needed to be at their best in order to be able to face what was still coming. Although Mai was relieved that Katara had been able draw out Izumi's poison, she was concerned that Izumi's bending had been permanently damaged. If Katara thought Aang could heal Izumi, she wanted to find Aang and Zuko as soon as possible. And Zuko! What had happened to him?

Mai sighed in frustration. For now, they would have to rest until Katara had regained her strength to try to contact Aang. Mai slid back down the side of the volcano and started stripping branches from nearby trees. She collected twenty or so branches and piled them at the mouth of the cave.

Mai worked quickly, sweat soaking through her fine silks and making them stick to her skin, her hair slipping out of its pins and sticking to her face and neck. Mai paused only long enough to toss her cloak and outer robe into a heap on the pack before returning to her work. She knew she was racing the sun . . . with every moment, the approaching dawn made their vulnerability more dangerous, and the gathering light would make their detection much more likely. Mai laid the branches out, aligning half of them. She selected the withier of the branches and wove them into the stouter ones, forming a rough screen she could lay across the entrance to the cave to block it from casual inspection. She knew that it wouldn't fool anyone who examined it closer, but it would probably disguise the mouth of the cave from the eye of someone scanning the shore from sea.

When she was finished, she took a moment to re-braid and pin her hair before pulling her robe and cloak back on and shouldering the pack. She had directed Katara to this islet because it was one of the few that she could think of that offered both immediate protection and fresh water. She hoped that whomever was chasing them was less familiar with the outer borders of the Fire Nation. It was only a short walk further inland to reach the spring, but it made her heart pound every time she considered that she was leaving Katara and Izumi completely undefended, even for a few minutes.

Mai tried wherever possible to step only on stone, which would not betray her passage by keeping her footprint. Finally reaching the spring, she reached into the crystal water and splashed some on her face. Mai pulled some stoneware bottles out of her pack and filled one from the spring bubbling up through a crack in the volcanic stone. Mai drained the first bottle of water, grateful to quench her parched throat. While Mai filled the bottles, she clasped the edge of her full sleeve with the other hand and used it to clean the grime and dried salt from her skin. Feeling a little refreshed, she gathered the bottles and returned to the cave. She could do little about her exhaustion, but at least she was more alert.

Mai was grateful to return to find her makeshift screen undisturbed. Katara lifted her head at Mai's entrance and snaked her arm out from under Izumi's neck. She gratefully accepted the bottle of water from Mai.

"All quiet?"

Mai nodded. "Yes, but I don't want to stay too long. If I know about this place, there's others that do as well. I'm anxious to get moving, but I'm not sure where to head next. Can you try to contact Aang? We need to regroup."

Katara stood and stretched her aching back before settling back into lotus pose, her hips creaking in protest. "I'll try. If here's not there, I'll wait as long as I can, but there will be no way for you to call me back if there's a problem."

Mai considered, trying to decide if she would be able to defend the three of them alone if their hiding place was discovered. Still aching to run but not knowing where to go, she knew that it could place them in even greater peril. Her glittering black eyes scanned the mouth of the cave, considering, balancing the risk against the alternatives, and finding little benefit with either option. The bottom line was that she didn't dare move until they knew more, and she wanted to head in whatever direction that would reunite them with Zuko and Aang. "I'm willing to take the risk."


	17. CH 17: Hunting

I own no part of Avatar: Fan fiction only.

Hunting

"Zuko . . . we need to stop."

Zuko looked over his shoulder at Aang. When they had been attacked, Aang had borne the brunt of the assault, and he felt pretty confident that at least Aang's arm had been broken. When Aang drew nearer in the pre-dawn haze, he was cradling his right arm and blood was running freely from the slices Zuko had made on both arms in his frenzy to free Aang. Aang was startlingly pale beneath his tattoos and bruises, and his usual lithe grace was gone as he stumbled over the rocky ground.

"Are you OK?"

"I'll do, but I need to try to reach Katara. I feel her pulling at me, and I can sense something is wrong. With Katara's pregnancy and Izumi in tow, they will be much more vulnerable. Can you bend?" Zuko shook his head in silent frustration. Aang sighed in disappointment. "Me too. I'm worried about their chances if Katara is hit with those darts."

Zuko didn't look at Aang as he spoke; instead, he scanned the gauzy shadows for signs of pursuit. He had once snatched Aang as a child while he had been travelling to the spirit world, and he knew that travelling left Aang completely defenseless. He had no idea if their captors were benders . . . if they were, there was little chance of evading capture again should they corner their quarry. He ran a skeptical eye over Aang, taking in the shadows beneath his eyes, his ragged breathing, and the way he trembled even when leaning against the rough bark of a broad oak. Aang could barely stand . . . Zuko couldn't imagine him being able to endure much more, especially if he couldn't call on the Avatar state. Neither a lengthy flight nor a fight were going to be viable options.

"OK. Give it a shot, but make it quick. If they haven't noticed that we're gone yet, they will soon."

Aang used the trunk of the tree for leverage, and the capuce of his nomad tunic drug against the bark as he slid clumsily into a half lotus position. He leaned his aching back against the tree, curving his spine away from a sharp pain in his ribs and arranged his hands palms-up on his knees, though it was painful. Aang sighed in annoyance . . . one of his ribs must be at least cracked. If he wasn't careful, he was going to end the day with another punctured lung. It took more effort than usual to calm his mind, but he finally found his center and moved towards the balm that was his wife.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

When Katara reached the Grove, it was empty, as she feared. The same soft moonlight bathed the Grove, but the breeze had cooled and picked up, swirling petals from the blooming trees like snow. She knew that she might be here for some time, so she settled down to wait in the center of the ring of stones.

Katara was afraid to let herself fall asleep in the spirit world, so she spent her time reciting litanies learned as a child: the steps to set a snare, how to tan the hide of a rabbit-seal, the lineage of her mother's family, and then the lineage of her father's family. The moon in the spirit world had nearly set when she felt the air around her tighten, and she sensed she was no longer alone.

Before she could open her eyes, a familiar hand cradled her face, and Aang pulled her into a tremulous kiss. "I was worried I wouldn't reach you in time," he choked.

Katara opened her eyes in expectation, but the smile slid from her face as she took in the state of her husband with growing horror. His eyes and cheeks were sunken, and he was bloody, covered in mud, and barely an inch of his flesh was spared bruises or cuts. It was impossible to reconcile the changes that had happened in only a few hours . . . he looked lucky to be alive.

"Spirits, what _happened_ to you?"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Aang hadn't considered how difficult it would be to leave her this time. Before they were married, any separation was agony, punctuated by paralyzing self-doubt. _Will she be there when I get back? What if she meets someone else? What if she decides to go home to stay?_ He had thought that when they married, this would diminish; on the contrary, his anxiety had become more acute. Knowing what it meant to finally have her, the thought that something could happen to Katara and their child when he wasn't there to protect them left him nauseous and closed his throat in dread. He decided that if he had to leave them behind, the safest place for them was in the Fire Nation, under the protection of Zuko's overzealous royal guard.

Aang had crushed Katara to his chest, memorizing her curves as he traced them from hip to back, her hair tumbling from between his fingers as he held her face and combed his fingers through her tresses. His fingertips had followed her ribs down to the curve of their child, and as he spread his hands across her belly, he could feel the baby twist and kick, so close and yet so unreachable. He relished the warmth and intimacy there between them, his wife and his child cradled in his arms as he bent his face and rested it in the crook of Katara's neck.

"Aang?"

"Mmm?" Aang had wrapped his arms around his family and buried his nose in her hair, drinking her in.

"You're only going to be gone a few weeks. You'll be back in no time."

Aang groaned. Yesterday he had been talking her into accepting his trip; today she had to talk _him_ into it. They both knew he had to go, but the knowing didn't make it any easier.

The peace in Republic City had always been tenuous. First, there had been the contentious negotiations over borders and territories for the fledgling settlement. Then there had been the constant personal attacks, particularly directed at Zuko.

The Earth Kingdom accused him of trying to maintain control over a former Fire Nation colony that he had promised to relinquish and of a renewed attempt at imperialism. Fire Nation nationalists accused him of weakness. Their own friendship had been strained by the struggle through the Harmony Restoration Movement. Aang himself was accused repeatedly of allowing his friendship with the Fire Lord and his 'attachment' to a Water Tribe peasant to cloud his judgment. Frankly, more than once, both Aang and Zuko had questioned the merits of the plan. It was with profound relief that Aang and Zuko had walked away from Republic City after the first peaceful election, hoping to return to their own private lives.

Five years after that election, the city was more or less stable, with industry and commerce growing, bringing prosperity to the intrepid souls who had taken up the Avatar and Fire Lord's challenge to forge a brave new world. Even though outside the Fire Nation, it was almost universally agreed that the Hundred Years' War had virtually destroyed the balance of the world, it turned out that peace and unity were not universally desired by all. Opposition that had been at first open, explosive, and individual had become secretive, quiet, communal, and organized . . . and its wrath was focused particularly at the two of them.

Still, peace had flourished throughout most of the world. Zuko and Aang had been invited to celebrate this milestone anniversary of the founding of the city, and the municipal authorities were expecting the Fire Lord to arrive with his entire court in full regalia along with the Avatar with his burgeoning family and a cadre of Air Acolytes. Instead, Zuko had all but forbidden Mai and Katara from accompanying them, and Aang was still annoyed by the vehemence with which Zuko had insisted. Concerned with how it would look when the founders of Republic City arrived without their respective families and attendants, Aang had argued bitterly with Zuko a few nights before their departure.

Sweeping his unbound raven hair back from flashing gold eyes, Zuko had spat, "You are in no position to dictate to me what to do with my own wife and daughter. Frankly, I'm shocked you would even _consider_ dragging Katara all the way to Republic City in her current state. Even if you have so little consideration for _her_ welfare—"

Aang shot out of his chair, turning over his tea cup as he leaned over the black lacquered dining table. "How _dare_ you suggest—"

Zuko continued unabated, raising his voice to cut through Aang's protest. "—I would think you would consider the life of your own child! It's a long trip! You've heard the rumors! _Damn_ it, Aang! Losing them isn't _worth_ it!"

Appa's roar jerked Aang out of his reverie. Zuko marched briskly across the plaza, practically snarling at the necessity of the trip. Mai followed at a more leisurely pace, swinging Izumi's hand as she skipped alongside her elegant mother.

"Katara, you've got to let him go. He'll spend the rest of the afternoon making moon eyes at you in the middle of the plaza if you don't make him leave." Zuko threw Aang a withering look. "He _insists_ we have to go for appearance's sake, so we had better leave before we lose any more daylight."

Smirking, Katara leaned into Aang's face aggressively. "His Royal Ashiness demands that you depart the Fire Nation immediately."

Aang rolled his eyes and planted a last kiss in the middle of her forehead. Somehow, the satisfaction of affectionately mocking Zuko never grew old for Katara. "Try to stay out of trouble."

Aang turned to find Mai standing with one hand braced on a hip and the other negligently spinning a knife. The handle of the blade snapped satisfyingly each time it slapped into the palm of her leather glove before being tossed again. Mai winked at Aang. "Don't worry," she drawled. "We'll take good care of her, won't we Izumi?"

Izumi looked up innocently at Aang from the flagstones and grinned toothily. Aang sighed. Katara, Mai, and Izumi were each capable of finding an endless supply of creative trouble on their own. They made a particularly beautiful but lethal ensemble; left to their own devices under the influence of boredom? He couldn't imagine the . . . possibilities. He just hoped the palace would still be standing when he and Zuko returned.

Aang stooped to give Izumi a brisk hug before sailing up to take Appa's reins, and the aroma of sweet plum wafted out of her clothes. Aang smiled—her pockets were stuffed with the sweets he had brought her from Ba Sing Se. He couldn't wait to have a daughter of his own to spoil.

Aang had looked back at them one last time as they had flown away. Katara was supporting the weight of the baby with one hand wrapped beneath her belly, and the other hand shaded her eyes from the afternoon sun. Zuko called from Appa's saddle, "It's going to be fine. We'll be back in three weeks."

Aang frowned. "If you thought it was going to be alright, you wouldn't have insisted Katara and Mai stay here . . . and you wouldn't have sent that hawk to Toph, asking her to meet us in Republic City."

Zuko crossed his arms and scowled. "I'm just being cautious."

Aang turned Appa's head northeast towards Republic City. "Let's hope that's all it is."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

After a few hours of silent flight, the sun had bowed its head to the ocean, and they had nearly reached the Stone Fingers. His anger at Aang mostly forgotten, Zuko had crept out along Appa's neck and crouched next to Aang on Appa's head. Both men watched the Stone Fingers pass beneath them with dread and revulsion.

Repulsed, Aang shivered as he watched the towers of stone slide below them, the shadows at their feet rippling over the broken ground like water in a stream. "Spirits, I hate this place." Zuko watched Aang warily as he continued, "Your father very nearly killed me here—over and over. I still regularly wake in a cold sweat dreaming of this place."

Zuko's eyes skipped over the plateaus at the top of each gargantuan tower, his stomach twisting as his own nightmares of Ozai surfaced in his mind's eye. They had reached the heart of the Stone Fingers, and they passed tower after tower that bore the scars of battle: enormous slabs of stone cut away from the rock formations and cast away like a child's block, towers once straight now stood curved, the shorter side blasted into glass by unimaginable heat, while other towers had been toppled altogether and blown to jagged shards scattered at the feet of its neighbors. Truly, this place had been the battleground of colossi. Zuko wondered, even after all these years, that such destruction could have been wrought by the gentle, tender-hearted monk beside him.

"I forget sometimes that you are capable of wielding such power."

The corner of Aang's mouth quirked sadly. "Everything I do is done with the sole intent of ensuring that the people I love never have to see me do this ever again. I _want_ you to forget . . ." Aang continued quietly, almost to himself, "I wish _I_ could forget.

"It terrifies Katara, and it terrifies me. Every time I go into the Avatar state, when I come back to my senses, I'm horrified at the destruction that is unleashed—at who I become when it takes me over."

Aang was relieved when the last of the stone formations slipped between Appa's paws and gave way to lush coniferous forests. "If I thought I could take my family and retire to the solitude of an air temple to live out the rest of my days in peace, I would do it in an instant." Aang shook his head sadly. "Human beings may hate war, but neither can they tolerate peace."

Shrugging off his melancholy, Aang squinted into the gathering dark in the forest below. "We need to land soon; we only have ten or fifteen minutes of light left."

At the first likely clearing, Aang urged Appa to spiral down for a landing. _Ssssssssssssffttt!_ Zuko had heard it first. "What's that?"

Zuko sent a tongue of flame around the perimeter of the clearing, but it was empty. _Sssssssssffttt . . ffftttt . . . ffffffttt._

"Ow!" Zuko ripped a dart from the back of his shoulder, but only had a moment to glance at it before his ring of fire vanished and he crumpled bonelessly off Appa's head into the gathering gloom below.

"Zuko!" Aang dove into the dark after Zuko's limp form, pulling his limbs tight like an arrow and bending the air around him to allow him to accelerate after his friend. Finally spotting him only a dozen feet above the ground, Aang bent the air around Zuko to form a cushion, barely catching him before he shattered. _Sssssssfftt . . .ffft . . ffffttt . . . ffffffffffftttttt!_

The air was suddenly alive, sizzling and angry, stinging and biting at nearly every inch of Aang's body. Appa roared in rage far above him.

"Appa! Go!"

Aang barely registered Appa's white blot soaring back into the inky sky before he was enveloped in the void and he slammed into the earth at full speed.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"We only just woke up and slipped away. . . . Katara, we can't bend."

Katara grimaced, her healer's hands travelling over him, racing to assess wounds she knew she couldn't mend. "I guessed as much. They got Izumi too. Even if you could bend, that arm's useless—it's broken in at least four places I can find, the wrist is little better, and you've got a couple of broken ribs too. How are you still upright?"

Katara cradled Aang's face in her hands, and he allowed himself to close his eyes and permitted her to carry his weight just for a moment. "You've got to find a place to rest before you collapse. You're probably bleeding inside from the fall."

He was so _tired_ . . . allowing himself to rest even for a few minutes was going to make it near impossible to get up and continue on. "We can't stop for long or we'll be caught again. We need to regroup."

Katara nodded. "Where's Appa?"

Aang shook his head. "I don't know. Even if he took a dozen darts, I don't think it would stop him from flying, but I can't call him. My bison whistle was lost in the fall; do you have yours?"

Katara reached into her gi and drew out a small whistle on a leather thong shaped like a lunar whale. She started to lift the thong over her head to give it to Aang, but he stopped her with a hand on hers.

"Don't bother—I won't be able to carry it back with me from the spirit world. We've got to keep moving. You need to call Appa and come to us." Aang squeezed heavy eyelids shut, kneading them with one hand and thinking. "The easternmost finger of stone has a hidden crevice on the lee of the stone. It's big enough . . . I think Zuko and I can conceal ourselves there and wait for you."

"The lee of the stone?"

"A hidden place sheltered from the wind . . ." Aang's voice trailed off and his eyes had become unfocused. Katara looked into him, uncertainty etched in her face. Aang struggled to focus on her again and smiled reassuringly. "Follow my chi . . . it will lead you straight to us."

Aang reached out, his hand trembling, and laid it in Katara's hair, cupping her skull to pull her face to his. "Nothing has ever kept you from my side." He kissed her firmly. "This won't either. Be safe." And he was gone.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

When Katara rose from the sand, she was radiating power, and her hair and robes lifted subtly, standing out from her body. "Let's go."

Izumi looked up miserably. "Where are we going?"

Katara kneeled in the black sand and took Izumi's small hand in her own. When Izumi looked into Katara's eyes, she couldn't quite see into them . . . a blue light shone within them as though she was lit from inside with lightning. Katara drew her brows down, and her lips spread wide in a mockery of a smile, more a grimace of rage. She whispered ferally, "Auntie's going hunting, Izumi. Good thing you and your mommy brought your blades, because we're going to need them to get your daddy and Aang back."


	18. CH 18: A Lover's Rage

I own no part of Avatar: Fan fiction only.

A Lover's Rage

Appa had come much quicker than Katara had anticipated. Perhaps he had come looking for her when he realized he couldn't reach Aang. By the time Katara, Mai, & Izumi had made their way back to the beach, Aang was already a white blot in the lightening dawn.

As they neared the Stone Fingers, Katara urged Appa low into the canyon, and he wove silently through the towering stone formations. Katara crouched on Appa's head, ready to leap into battle at the first sign of attack. Izumi leaned into Katara's back, one fist bunched into Katara's black cloak for balance, the other hand in Mai's iron grip. When they had left the security of the sea, Katara had woven a rolling fog that she sent before them, hoping to conceal their approach.

Mai had decided Izumi was safer with them than left behind in Appa's saddle, defenseless. They didn't dare fly Appa all the way to the edge of the Stone Fingers, so Katara urged Appa to land about a half a mile into the forest of stone forest.

Appa lowered his head and tipped it slowly, his wooly ear nearly touching the ground in an effort to allow his beloved mistress to dismount easily. Mai was deeply concerned about taking Katara into battle so late in her pregnancy, but she couldn't see any other options. She didn't see any way she could recover Zuko and Aang without Katara's help; it was going to be a miracle if they all emerged intact.

The women crept through the mist, made nearly entirely opaque by the light of the rising sun. Katara led the way, while Mai guarded their rear, Izumi between them. As they moved, the columns of stone would appear suddenly from the veil of the thick mist, and Mai noticed that water was settling into her hair and saturating her clothes. It beaded against her raised blades and slid down their length making the handles slick. Mai realized that even at this great distance, Katara was continuing to draw more and more water from the inlet into the mist. If they were attacked, she would have a formidable weapon at her disposal.

Izumi had drawn her weapons of choice, her prized butterfly swords, and Mai smiled. Neither Katara nor Mai actually expected Izumi to be of much help, and they had instructed her to immediately find a place to hide if they were attacked, but Mai hoped that if Izumi was armed, it would make it harder for someone to abscond with her.

Finally, Katara stopped abruptly before a column, and she softly called Izumi to her. Katara kneeled to whisper into Izumi's ear, but did not pause in her bending. Izumi bounded off into the mist. Mai's heart skipped in alarm, and she elbowed Katara sharply in the back.

Katara whispered, "She's still here. I just asked her to feel around the base of the stone for the fissure where Zuko and Aang are concealed."

Moments later, they heard Izumi's shrill cry, _"Daddy!"_

 _Sssssssssssssssfffffttt! Ssssssssssssssssssffffffftt! Fffffffffftttt!_

Mai screamed, _"Izumi, no! Get down!"_

Katara raised her hands and plunged them at the ground, dropping into a crouch. The mist coalesced and slammed into the ground, revealing Zuko only a few feet away supporting Aang, Aang's broken arm slung over Zuko's shoulders. Aang was clutching Izumi to his body with his good arm, her tiny arms wrapped around his neck and legs around his waist.

The falling water had captured the darts in mid-flight, but Mai nearly dropped the blades clutched between her fingers when she way the scores of figures that had emerged from behind the stones, and they were already reloading their blow guns and preparing to fire again.

Katara stood, spinning in place, and she collected the water into a swirling vortex, contracting around them until the five of them were compressed nearly back to back. Katara swept a hand back over her head, and they were encased in a thick bubble of ice, though over two feet of water sloshed around their legs.

"Katara!" Aang seemed to be using every last ounce of his strength to stay upright and speak. "That won't work! Those darts can penetrate stone!" 

Already, they could hear the darts thump against the walls of their temporary refuge. Katara snapped her head to lock eyes with Aang, and her eyes blazed with blue light. Any remaining color drained from Aang's face, and his tattoos stood out starkly against his pallor.

"No! Katara— _NO!"_ He staggered forward, trying to grab her. "You won't be able to control it! It could destroy you!"

Katara's face was a rictus of rage. She narrowed her eyes at Aang and lifted her hands threateningly as though preparing to attack him for daring to interfere.

Aang pleaded, "Katara, no! Don't let it take over—you have to master your rage!"

Katara tipped her head as in question, but she jerked as a second volley of darts thumped into the ice bubble. Katara swirled her hands, one circling to the left, the other to the right. Aang watched in puzzlement . . . he knew that technique. It was almost as if she was trying to make a . . .

Suddenly, the bottom six inches of the water froze around their feet, and as Katara swung a hand down to her side and cut it viciously up across her face, Aang and Izumi were knocked painfully onto their backs. Zuko and Mai barely remained standing as Katara wrenched the delicate ice chamber from the floor of the canyon and sent it hurtling skyward.

Katara held the momentum of the chamber as it rose with her lift hand and jabbed at the ceiling, piercing it. With another swirling gesture, Katara drew the remaining water into a vortex within the chamber to propel herself out of the bubble and out onto the roof.

Zuko turned to Aang, now coughing blood and wheezing. Horrified, he asked, "She can't mean to take them all on _herself?"_

Aang wiped the blood from his chin. "She's unleashed the Avatar spirit through our linked chi. She has near boundless power, but not the means to control it. The bloodlust will rise in her and intoxicate her like wine. She's not Katara right now—she's the Avatar spirit, enraged and self-righteous. I doubt she will be able to stop herself until every last one of them are slaughtered. It will be a bloodbath."

Mai's face was bloodless. "What will she do then?"

Aang coughed and spat a mouthful of blood onto the ice, struggling to lever himself up against the vibrating slab in which his feet were imprisoned. He looked up through the hole in the ceiling where he could see his wife's hair, cloak, and gi whipping around her with the force of her bending. His vision was blurring, and it was a struggle to remain upright.

"If we are very, very lucky, she will come to her senses and withdraw from the Avatar spirit. If we are the slightest bit unlucky, the Avatar spirit will consume her soul and she will endure searing agony for the rest of time as her soul is shredded in the void. She will be utterly lost." Aang noticed Izumi trembling with terror, and he gathered her against him, pressing one ear into his chest and covering the other with his broad palm. "If we are caught in the wake of the explosion, we will either be shattered like glass, or worse, share her fate."

Aang laid his head back onto the hard ice, and his skin burned with cold at the contact. He closed his eyes and hoped that he could reach her.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It was _magnificent_. She saw her enemies laid low before her, their movements slow and feeble, the very thought that they could even consider opposing her laughable. They were so pathetic and _insignificant_. They were so fragile, these little humans, so . . . full of _blood_.

Katara held the ice chamber steady with the left hand and reached out a trembling right hand, the palm hovering out over the wretched humanoid insects that cowered beneath her wrath. It would be so easy to just . . . Katara clenched her spread fingers into a claw, and as one, they all fell to their knees, trembling.

Katara narrowed her eyes and regarded them. Katara clenched her hand into a fist, and every drop of blood in each of the tiny humans froze and expanded, until their eyes bulged and their skins popped like sausages. Katara sighed in satisfaction.

 _Katara . . ._

Katara whipped around, her hands raised, ready to attack again. Behind her she found another pathetic, weak human, clearly hanging on to the scraps of its life by threads, but this one was made of blue mist. Katara squinted as she looked closer, and something within her shifted, tugging below one of her ribs. This human seemed so familiar . . .

 _Katara, love, it's over . . . you need to let go now . . ._

"No!" Why would she relinquish this kind of power? Never again would anyone threaten her family . . . _her family?_

 _Katara . . . lower the ice chamber . . ._

Katara shook her head and lowered her hands. "Ice chamber?" Distantly, she heard shrieks of terror.

 _Gently . . . Let go gently . . ._

The blue mist stepped forward tentatively and wrapped its arms around her. It pulled her close, and she felt her rage ebb and uncoil from where it clutched her heart. The blue mist became more substantial as her rage flowed away, and long, elegant fingers and a wide palm reached out to raise her her left hand, supporting and guiding it.

Gently . . . just a bit more . . . we're almost there . . .

Dazed, Katara's eyes followed the shape of the hand to a long, sinewy arm, and wrapped around the length of the arm was a broad blue band . . . _What was that? Long ago, in another life, she had loved a man_ so much _—more than the air she breathed. He had had beautiful tattoos . . ._

" _Aang!"_ The name of her lover, her husband, ripped through Katara's throat.

The blaze of light vanished from her eyes and the spell was broken. Aang was gone, and Katara fell ther her knees on the ice. _Ice?_ Katara looked around bewildered, and then down at the ice below her knees. _There shouldn't be any ice here!_ With that thought, the ice below her dissolved into water, and Katara fell through the sheet of water, bemusedly hurtling towards the floor of the canyon.


	19. CH 19: Aftermath

I own no part of Avatar: Fan fiction only.

Aftermath

Luckily, when Katara released the ice, they were only a few feet from the floor of the canyon, and Mai and Zuko were able to keep their feet under them as they landed. Although Zuko gallantly tried to catch Katara as she fell, he primarily served to break her fall, and he crumpled under her dead weight.

Aang wasn't nearly as lucky. He was sprawled on the ground, blood bubbling from his nose with every shallow breath, and every cough sent clots and gobbets of blood spattering on the ground. Aang groaned in agony and disbelief. The most powerful Fire Bender in all of history had failed to kill him in this very place. Instead, he was going to die here choking on his own blood as a result of his own wife wielding the power of the Avatar in a desperate attempt to save his life. It was preposterous. He rolled onto his side and tried to laugh, but only succeeded in starting a new fit of coughing.

"Mommy! There's so much blood! Uncle Aang's going to die!"

Izumi's terror mobilized Mai as nothing else could. She pulled a disoriented Katara into a sitting position and called her name. Finally, Katara blinked her cerulean eyes and swiveled them back to look at Mai.

"Katara! You have to heal Aang _now_ —he's going to die!"

"Aang? He's going to Republic City with Zuko . . . Izumi said I should stay for tea . . ."

"No! He's going to die of a collapsed lung right here, right now, if you don't help him!"

In desperation, Mai grabbed a handful of Katara's hair and wrenched her head around to look at Aang. Izumi was kneeling next to him, stroking his shoulder and weeping while Aang laughed in delirium. Over and over, Izumi tried to reassure him, "It's OK, Auntie Katara is coming . . ."

Katara's eyes flew wide, her mind finally grasping the gravity of her reality. Zuko had to help her scramble to her feet, but she shook him off as she rushed to Aang's side. She rolled Aang back onti hos back and bent the water from a nearby pine as she set to work healing her beloved, attempting to snatch him back yet again from the call of the spirits.

Relieved that Katara had finally returned to her senses, Mai scooped up Izumi, muttering reassurances as she turned to find Zuko. Aside from being unable to bend, Zuko was relatively unscathed from the ordeal, and he knelt over what remained of one of Katara's victims.

When Mai approached, she could see he had already stripped a basket from one of the men's belts. When she drew closer, she could see that it contained long delicate cones of very fine rice paper. Zuko was turning out the man's pockets, looking for any indication of who they could be. In frustration, he peeled back blood-soaked clothes looking for tattoos, anything that would give them a clue as to their attackers. After a few minutes, he moved on to another man.

Mai sat on a slab of stone and rocked Izumi. As the morning wore on, the sun rose, and Izumi eventually cried herself to sleep. After checking the bodies and having nothing but matching baskets of paper darts and assorted antique blow guns, Zuko slumped onto the stone next to her and watched Katara miserably.

Finally, Katara rose, pressing fists into her lower back and groaning. It felt as though her back had been pummeled, and the pressure on her womb was almost unbearable. Mai was glad to see Aang sit up and experiment with a few deep breaths.

Katara took a step towards Mai, but stopped instantly, a look of surprise and dread painted across her face. She attempted another step but jerked to a halt.

"Katara, what's wrong?"

Katara reached a hand out to Mai, afraid to move and mumbled under her breath. "Mai?" Katara's voiced was tinged with rising panic, and she tried one more step. "Mai!"

Mai handed Izumi's sleeping form to Zuko and rushed to Katara, grasping her outstretched hands. "What's wrong?"

Katara's eyes were wide and her lip trembled. "Mai, it's started, and I won't be able to stop it! Aang can't Water Bend—he can't help me." Mai looked between Katara's eyes in confusion. "I'm in labor—the baby's water has broken!" Katara smoothed her hands over the curve of her body. "Spirits, no . . ." she whispered.

Mai looked down to where Katara's hands were pressed into the folds of her torn and filthy gi. Between two of her fingers protruded the hollow base of a paper dart, buried low into Katara's abdomen and unnoticed during battle because of the Avatar spirit's power thundering through her body, and unacknowledged in her panic to heal Aang due to the adrenaline surging through her veins.

Aang looked up in horror at his wife, and his hand shot out, reaching to tear out the dart.

"No! Leave it in! If you remove it, what remains of the baby's waters will be lost." Katara ripped a leather thong over her head and tossed it to Aang. "Call Appa—we have to go!"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The frenzied return flight to the Fire Nation seemed to take an eternity. Appa roared repeatedly in distress and sweat poured down Aang's back as they heard Katara's periodic cries of pain as her contractions slowly grew closer together.

Zuko paced anziously up and down Appa's neck, unwilling to be in the saddle where Mai and Izumi tried to comfort Katara. Every few minutes, he would ask his wife, "What can I do?", or "Did you try rubbing her back? You liked to have pressure against the base of your back.", or "Is there any water? She's probably dehydrated.", and finally, "Did you try elevating—"

Mai shouted in frustration, "Zuko, enough! There's nothing else I can do for her."

Battle hardened, toughened through years of abuse, Zuko could remain cool and focused in the most grueling conflict. This though, was something else. His friend crying out in pain, about to give birth in Appa's saddle in mid-air as they raced back to the palace had pushed him beyond what he could bear. Zuko rounded on Aang. "This is intolerable! Can't you go any faster?"

Incredulous, Aang whipped his head over his shoulder and retorted, "Are you _kidding_ me?"

Zuko ran his hands through his hair, filthy and lank. He towered over Aang. "I knew this would happen if we brought Mai and Katara. I didn't even want to _go_ to Republic City. This is all _your_ fault!"

"Zuko!" Mai was seriously considering flinging one of her stilettos at Zuko just to give him something else to think about. "If you don't stop, I'm going to let Aang drop you in the ocean so you can _swim_ back to the palace."

Zuko sat on the edge of Appa's saddle with arms crossed belligerently for the remainder of the flight, huffing, fuming, and throwing anxious glances at the women, but blessedly doing so in silence. Mai leaned to Izumi and whispered into her ear. Izumi rose and went to stand next to Zuko, wrapping her arms around her father and stroking his ragged hair.

"Daddy? Mommy said you need a hug."

Zuko rolled his eyes at his wife, who smirked in his direction, but he wrapped his arms around his daughter and much of his tension drained away as he gathered her into his arms.

When Appa's exhausted paws finally found the flagstones of the plaza, Aang gathered Katara into his arms and carried her into the palace, leaving the Fire Lord and his wife behind in the bright light of the late morning sun.

Zuko and Mai straggled behind, Zuko carrying Izumi, who had was dozing on his shoulder and was drooling onto his mud-spattered silks. With Aang and Katara finally out of earshot, Zuko finally hissed, "How irresponsible to drag a pregnant woman into battle. What idiot—"

Mai grabbed Zuko's arm and hauled him back. Taller than Katara, Mai stood nearly nose to nose with her husband. "I did, you arrogant ass! If we hadn't come after you, the two of you would have been dead by now. The next time you suspect an ambush, don't fly into it, you fool!"

After a withering look, Mai lifted Izumi out of Zuko's arms, and marched up the palace steps.

Abandoned in the plaza, Zuko huffed, "That completely beside the point." He watched as his wife strode into the cool shadows of the palace and muttered, "I need a drink."

Mai's voice called back, "And a bath!"


	20. CH 20: The Singing Bat

I own no part of Avatar: Fan fiction only.

The Singing Bat

The midwives took one look at Aang, smeared from head to toe with blood and muck, and refused to allow him to enter their inner sanctum. They took Katara away, but he only had to wait an hour or so before the palace's chief healer returned to find him. She ran a critical eye over him, clearly disapproving. He blushed slightly in embarrassment, but shrugged it off. He was the Avatar, not the damned Fire Lord—if she was expecting a prince, she'd have to wait for Zuko.

"Avatar Aang, I'm pleased to tell you you have a son."

Aang seized the tiny, wizened woman's hands. "Is Katara alright? Is the baby OK?"

The healer sighed and lead Aang to sit in the deep window sill. She folded her rough square hands on the red linen of her robes, reluctant to continue. Taking a breath, she said, "Lady Mai has explained that the dart which pierced your wife contained a poison that is able to disrupt a bender's power?" Aang nodded cautiously. "The dart pierced the baby's inner sanctum, though not the boy himself. The poison went into the child's waters instead of Lady Katara's bloodstream." The healer paused. She had had to give bad news to powerful men before, and dreaded the explosion that usually followed.

"And?"

The healer took another deep breath. "Although Katara and the baby appear to be perfectly healthy, we fear your son will never be able to bend. I'm terribly sorry."

Aang had been holding his breath, and he let it out in a rush.

"But Katara is OK?"

The healer nodded. "She appears to be in perfect health, and her bending is intact."

"And our son is healthy?"

"Yes . . ." The healer cautiously affirmed Aang's question.

"Then nothing else matters." Aang swept the healer into his arms, knocking her ridiculous pointy red hat askew as he stood up, her feet kicking impotently in protest a foot over the polished wood.

The healer struggled to keep the hat in place. "Avatar Aang, really!"

Aang kissed the ancient healer firmly on her powder soft lined cheek, and she blushed furiously as he set her back on her tiny feet. "Can I see my wife?"

Aang didn't wait for an answer, and he barged into their apartment, turning into their bedroom.

The healers had bathed Katara and the baby, and she laid propped on pillows, the curve of their son's head echoing the fullness of Katara's breast as the baby nursed. Katara looked up as Aang pulled a chair to the side of the bed and stretched his long arms to encircle them both. He dropped a kiss into Katara's fragrant hair and settled his cheek contentedly onto her head. Aang was dying to hold the baby, and see its eyes, but the babe was nursing industriously. Katara sniffed loudly.

Aang drew back to get a better look at his wife, and a tear slid down her cheek. "What's wrong?"

Katara burst into tears and turned her streaming face into his filthy neck and torn robes. He squeezed her, but her gasps only lengthened into sobs.

"Please tell me what is wrong . . . aren't you happy?" Aang whispered.

"I'm so sorry!"

"About what?"

"Didn't they tell you?" Katara looked searchingly into the depths of her husband's grey eyes.

"Tell me what?"

"The healers . . . the healers said that he won't be able to bend! It's all my fault for going into battle—I was so stupid!"

Aang squeezed Katara again and smiled reassuringly. "At the moment, neither can I, so I hardly think it makes any difference! Besides, if you hadn't come to get us, he might grow up to bend , but he'd certainly be the last Air Bender, but without a father to love him or a master to teach him." Aang kissed his wife. "We are all alive and safe. That's good enough for me. Bumi is our _first_ child—"

Katara quirked a brow over wet eyes. _"Bumi?"_

"Well . . . I was considering Zuko too, but the Fire Lord's ego is big enough as it is. Let's not inflate it any further . . ." 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Zuko rolled the delicate paper dart between his fingers, careful not to touch the powdered residue at the tip. Aang was slouched in a deep chair watching Zuko and thinking.

Zuko turned to Aang, gesturing with the dart. "I've never seen a weapon like this. It's elegant. Almost silent, fast, deadly, inexpensive and easy to make from everyday materials . . . it's frankly ingenious. Why hasn't anyone thought of this before?"

Aang's lips tightened, and he growled, "You've never seen fukiya used because there hasn't been a fukiya master born in three generations. Until yesterday, I thought the only one was the one in this chair."

Zuko's brows shot up into the ragged ends of his hair. "This is an Air Nomad weapon?"

Aang nodded and stood, walking to the end of the hall where a selection of ancient Fire Nations were displayed on hooks on the wall. He selected two staffs and brought them back with him to the long dining table. One of the staffs was very heavy and reached a few inches over his head before ending in a ten-inch blade. The other staff was shorter, reaching from the floor to about Aang's heart and did not have a blade. Aang leaned the shorter staff against the table and spun the spear in front of him. He dropped into a low forward stance, snapped the back third of the staff into his left hand, braced against his back hip, while the right hand cradled the top third of the staff at eye level.

Zuko smiled. He couldn't count the number of times aang had faced him this way, the tip of his staff swaying menacingly under Zuko's nose. Seeing the bo cradled in Aang's expert hands, he realized it was only a few inches shorter than Aang's staff. Aang returned Zuko's smile and stood, spinning the bo back into a non-defensive grip.

"Ancient Air Nomads prided themselves on being able to turn nearly any object into a weapon. Eventually, they adopted spare, non-material values, so they liked the simplicity of weapons that could serve multiple functions."

"Like a glider concealed in a bo."

"Like a glider concealed in a bo." Aang nodded. "You find a bo or jo nearly anywhere you are." Aang set the bo aside and took up the jo instead. "We use our staves as extensions of our hands, and training is focused on directing power down the length of the weapon. Air Benders were taught that our staves could also serve to focus the path of our bending and to amplify its power. Were you trained in bo and jo?"

Zuko shook his head. "Bo is an infantry weapon for non-benders. A Fire Bender doesn't really need a mid-range weapon, and being flammable, it's not really practical to try to use it for directing the force of our bending. All of my weapons training was in bladed weapons." Zuko smiled, reminiscing. "You know, that's how I first met Mai. She was the only girl deemed good enough to train blades with the boys. Frankly, she was much better than most of us. Even though she works mostly with short blades, she's death on the wind with a katana as well."

Aang grinned back appreciatively. "Well, fukiya is the first weapon I was trained on as a child. We start training with fukiya . . ." Aang considered, nodding his head as he counted. " . . . maybe at the age of five or six? Around when we start learning our letters. It's short enough to function as a child's bo for learning forms," Aang demonstrated, napping into a modified stance similar to the one used with the bo. He then stood back up and repositioned his hands so that they were fisted one over the other at the very end of the jo. He brought his fists to his lips and closed one eye to sight along the length of the weapon at Zuko. "The blow gun is used to teach young Air Benders to focus their breath into a weapon.

"The paper darts allow you to clearly see where your breath was focused, and they were ideal for learning to target. An Air Bender who has mastered fukiya can blow one of those paper darts hard enough to pierce stone, even at great distances."

Zuko was impressed. "I've never seen you use one. Are you any good?"

Aang crinkled his nose in distaste. "Very. I don't care for fukiya, though. The monks began training me very young—much earlier than the other boys, and I had my first fukiya when I was only three or four. It came naturally to me, but I didn't yet have the sense to not point it away from other living creatures. One morning, I tried to hit a singing bat."

"A singing bat?"

Aang dipped his head in embarrassment. "They are very small and exceptionally beautiful. You can only see them in the wee hours of the morning. They drink the dew from where it collects on leaves and nibble at berries, so they will sort of swarm around berry bushes." Aang lifted his palm and drew a circle in the center with a finger about an inch and a half in diameter. "They are only about this big, and their fur and tail feathers are a deep iridescent purple that shimmers to magenta and indigo as they move. They flap their wings at an incredible rate, and the movement makes a tremulous, warbling sound in a symphonic range of pitches. Their song is both beautiful and sad."

Aang braced his hands on the edge of the table as he leaned its edge, looking out the window, but obviously not seeing the stars beyond. "My first fukiya was very small—like a bo, it's sized to fit my body. The darts were sharpened slips of bamboo—very fine, and even as a child, I was an exceptional shot. I didn't really believe I could hit the bat, but I did. I cried for Monk Gyatso . . . he was so disappointed when he saw what I had done. The tiny bat looked so small in my cupped hands, and the bamboo skewer vibrated madly as it flapped its wings in agony and mewled pitifully.

"Gyatso told me I had done something unfixable—through my selfishness, I had taken the life of a particularly gentle and beautiful creature, and it could not be given back. He did not yell at me, but as my punishment, he set me to watch over it and ease it into the next life. I stroked it and spoke to it. I coaxed drops of water into its mouth and tried to feed it tiny pieces of fruit. After a day and a half of suffering, it finally perished, and I was inconsolable, completely shattered by the cruelty of what I had done. That day I learned that if I do not have the power to give life, neither should I be permitted to take it." Aang took the dart from Zuko's fingers and tossed it into the fire guttering in the grate. "A dart cannot be recalled."

"That's why you wouldn't kill my father?"

Aang nodded. "That and other things. In ancient times, the Air Nomads nearly wiped one another out in petty clan wars, and the population never truly rebounded. Crops were decimated, livestock slaughtered, homes burned. We took to the mountains to ensure that we could always see our enemies beneath us, that we could defend our homes. We scattered and our strength was shattered. Seeing the destruction we had wrought upon ourselves, Air Nomads eventually adopted the practice of nonviolence wherever possible, refusing to kill other living creatures unless there is no other choice. All life is precious, even if it is damaged. There's always a chance for renewal.

Aang continued, looking deep into his friend. "Besides, if I had killed your father, it would have left a gaping hole within both our souls."

Zuko huffed. Yours, maybe. Zuko watched Aang's back as he returned the weapons, his bare feet silent on the black lacquered floor. "What did the ancient Air Nomads fight over?"

"The same things all men fight over—material possessions, borders, wealth, women, power, their own pride. And the desolation was nearly complete. To ensure this will never happen again, we strive to separate ourselves as much as possible from these temptations of the flesh and focus on the fruits of the spirit."

Aang's eyes lit up when Katara entered the hall, looking much refreshed. Zuko noticed, and slyly quipped, "Well, you've got most of those mastered, but you just can't seem to keep your hands off women."

Aang laughed warmly, meeting Zuko's smile. "Just one woman, but under the circumstances, I think I'm entitled." He was deeply relieved to see Katara on her feet after their ordeal, and contentment settled once again over his heart at the thought of their new son sleeping in the palace nursery. Nodding towards his wife, he continued, "With that kind of temptation, I think any monk would find a way to rationalize his spiritual shortcomings in favor of the joys of the flesh."

Zuko snorted in amusement. Even after everything Katara had endured over the past few days, Katara was still poised and beautiful, and the massive power that she had effortlessly wielded to affect their escape was equally evocative. Privately, Zuko had to agree that most men would indeed be unable to resist her for the sake of principle.

Zuko slapped his friend's shoulder as Aang rose to greet his wife. His own beautiful wife was likely upstairs cooing with his precious daughter over the Avatar's son, and Zuko was filled with gratitude at the thought of his own good fortune in Mai and Izumi. He was deeply grateful that he had been able to entice his lovely wife to return to his side after his many poor choices. They were both fortunate. "You're a lucky man, Aang."


	21. CH 21: Nightmares and Peace

I own no part of Avatar: Fan fiction only.

Nightmares and Peace

Aang rolled out of bed into a crouch, hands raised to defend and instantly alert, when a tiny fist delivered a barrage to their door that threatened to shake it from its hinges.

"Get your sorry self out here, Twinkletoes!"

Aang groaned when Bumi started wailing. Katara opened a bleary eye. "Hand me the baby, and get rid of her—it's not even daybreak yet! Tell her I'll see her—" Katara was unable to stifle her yawn, "—she can talk to us at breakfast. I want to talk before she tries healing any of you. We should do it together."

Aang pulled a silk robe over his shoulders as he padded through the apartment. Even though they had slept for hours, he still felt wrung out, and his body ached as he crept through the darkness. Toph had started beating on the door again, this time with both fists. Aang yanked it open and caught her fists. Toph grinned wickedly.

"Morning, _daddy_."

Even through his exhaustion and annoyance at Toph's early intrusion, his mouth quirked into a dopy grin. Aang's grip on her fists relaxed, but she could feel through the touch that his heart rate swelled and she felt his body straighten in pride. _He_ is _pleased . . . good for him. It's about time they had some real happiness_. Toph jerked a hand back and landed an affectionate punch in Aang's shoulder.

"Congrats on the sprout. Katara says you broke your bending."

Aang rubbed his shoulder where Toph had punched him. He tossed a look over his shoulder in the direction of the bedroom before stepping into the hallway and quietly closing the door. Though always rough, Toph hadn't hit him that hard, but real pain was radiating up his neck to his chin and down his arms to his fingertips.

Aang glanced at the guards that were always posted at the end of the hallway, perpetually guarding the privacy and safety of the royal family as they slept. He was surprised to see the captain of Zuko's personal guard, Weimin, and his lieutenant, Bingwen, themselves stationed at the end of the hall. The guards posted to this wing of the palace were selected for their loyalty, but it had likely been a decade since they had been set to personally guarding the royal family through the night. Still, he was grateful that they were there. Aang knew and liked both men, and he knew Zuko trusted them above anyone else in the palace. The last thing any of them wanted was for rumors to flood out of the Fire Nation that the Fire Lord, or worse, the Avatar, had lost his ability to bend.

Sensing his disquiet, Toph jerked her head in the direction of her own room, and she strode down the hall, expecting him to follow. Aang was wary of leaving Katara and Bumi, and he stood alone in the middle of the hall, regarding the broad backs of the guards as they stood unusually still, at attention even in the small hours of the morning.

He shuddered when he considered what must have happened when Zuko returned to find his palace in disarray only days after his own family had been attacked, his beloved daughter maimed. Even without the power to bend, Zuko's rage ran deep and hot, often harnessed just below the surface by a thin veil of civility. He had no doubt that there had been more than one execution last night, and the black flag stones of the throne room had likely been slick with the Fire Lord's retribution. Zuko was at the core a kind and generous man, loving and deeply empathetic, but he was still the Fire Lord. It was unlikely he would have suffered the guards that had permitted his family to be nearly slaughtered in his own home to have continued breathing long after he returned.

The palace was quieter than usual this morning, and the air felt tense and brittle. Even at this hour, he could normally sense a handful of footsteps vibrating through the floor, feel brooms pushed over the floor and pots bubbling in the kitchens, and faintly hear the incomprehensible rumble of whispered promises of lovers and the quiet conversation of guards forgotten at their posts. Tonight there was nothing. The stillness of fear had settled into the floor. In Ozai's time, such a lapse would likely have resulted in the slaughter of the entire staff. Although he regretted the loss of even a single life, Aang knew that nothing he could have said or done would have prevented the executions, but he was at least comforted knowing that Zuko was not Ozai. His punishment would have been restricted to only those he felt were directly responsible.

Still, he had to know. Sighing, Aang crossed the black lacquered floor to Weimin. When he looked into the guard's eyes, he saw concern, but not fear. "Weimin, Bingwen. What happened last night?"

Weimin exchanged a loaded look with Bingwen. He was likely weighing how much to tell the Avatar, but the entire household had always been instructed that when the Avatar and the Lady Katara were in residence, they were to be accorded the same authority as the Fire Lord and his lady. Even if it was delivered reluctantly, Aang knew he would get the unvarnished truth.

"When Fire Lord Zuko returned to the palace last night, he was very angry. He called the entire palace guard and household servants to the throne room. The only exceptions were the healers tending to the Lady Katara. When we were all gathered, he noticed that nearly three dozen of the guard and a handful of household staff were missing." Weimin exchanged another look with Bingwen before continuing. "He demanded to know where they were."

Aang looked between them in confusion. "Where were they?"

Weimin shifted his weight on his feet uncomfortably, and dropped his head in shame. "The missing men were those who had been on duty on the ramparts and in the catacombs when the Lady Mai, Princess Izumi, and Lady Katara fled the palace. Once the alarm had been sounded and we realized that the palace had been infiltrated, it took only moments to round up the survivors. We found the bodies of twenty men peppered with paper darts throughout the palace—they were dead before they had even had the chance to draw their blades. Four more had been hacked to bits by the intruders when they attempted to guard the private wing of the palace, six died defending the ramparts. It now appears that only six of the palace guards had been involved in the attack, and the attackers themselves came in through the kitchens."

"Where are they now?"

Bingwen answered. "I questioned two laundry maids and a cook. They were terrified—I don't think they knew what they had done. The cook opened the door for the butcher's boy—he was crying for help at the door. Apparently the butcher beats the boy, and he sleeps on the kitchen hearth most nights. When the cook opened the door, the boy was a bloody mess, cowering in the doorway, and more men than he could count rushed in. The cook and two laundry maids tried to stop them, but they were no match for them. One of the maids was able to slip away and rouse the rest of the guard, but the other maid was beaten within an inch of her life, and the healers doubt the cook will walk again. If it hadn't been for the maid that escaped, we would all likely have been slaughtered in our beds."

"And the six guards?"

"They all slipped away. Once the attackers realized that they had lost their quarry, they melted into the shadows."

Aang swayed on the spot, dizzy. Weimin reached out to catch him, but Aang braced himself against the wall with a hand. "Avatar, are you quite well?"

Weimin looked closely at the Avatar. Though always spare, his build willowy, Aang now looked like a collection of bones, his skin stretched too tight, and the cold moonlight accentuated his pallor. The flickering light of a wall sconce far down the hall caused shadows to dance in new hollows in his cheeks and in the grooves between his ribs, visible beneath the unbelted robe. Weimin had seen Aang only days ago, blooming with health; tonight he was little more than a wasting corpse.

Aang shivered and drew his robe around him. Though the night was sultry, he felt as though the air itself licked the warmth away from his clammy skin. He could feel beads of sweat trickling down his back and beading on his brow. "And the Fire Lord's retribution?"

Bingwen shook his head. "There was none. Many had given their lives in the fight, and those responsible were gone. We both offered ourselves to be executed for the offense, but the Fire Lord refused." Bingwen and Weimin kowtowed at Aang's feet. "Upon forfeiture of our very lives, there will never again be a threat upon the lives of the royal family or the Avatar's family in this palace. We will see to it personally."

Aang nodded and turned, tottering on his feet. He was relieved that Zuko had been merciful, and was a little ashamed that he had thought his friend would demonstrate anything but restraint. There was no possible comparison between Zuko and Ozai; the resemblance stopped at their raven hair and amber eyes.

Trailing a hand down the plaster wall for balance, his fingertips found a crack that ran from the ceiling to the floor, and he smiled wanly, remembering the night he had put it there. He suspected Zuko had left it there to taunt him. Finding his way to Toph's room, he found she had left it ajar, but after entering and closing the door, he found himself plunged into darkness. Aang's foot immediately fetched up against a piece of low furniture, and he teetered. Toph's feet thumped across the floor as she sprinted across the room to steady him. He crashed into Toph's open arms, but she was barely able to support his lanky frame and stop him from sprawling onto the intricately woven wool rug dawn would reveal to be spread across the floor. _Spirits, he's heavy! The man can practically fly—you'd think he would weigh less!_

With her arms wrapped around Aang's body, Toph's fingers felt his prominent ribs and the ridges of his spine pressed sharply through the damp silk of his robe. She could feel his heart flutter rapidly against her chest. He shivered violently, though heat poured from his skin. He was getting worse by the minute.

"How many of those darts did you say you were shot with?"

Aang groaned as Toph lowered him onto the rug, unable to go any further. "I didn't say, and I didn't count. Dozens, most likely. Do you know what is in them?"

Toph blotted the sweat from his face with her sleeve before starting to probe across his arms, hands, and neck with her deft fingers, searching out where the poison had deposited. "Katara was right; it's definitely some sort of metal, but I've never seen metal that is liquid without being melted."

"Can you get it out?"

Aang expected Toph to scoff in derision at the thought that there was an ounce of metal she couldn't bend to her will, but she was quiet. He could hear Toph's clothes rustle as she moved, he felt her fingers dart here and there, at wrist, at ankle, inside his elbow, and then dragging up one leg of his trousers to feel behind his knee. She sighed in resignation, and he was surprised at her embarrassment. "Aang?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to need to touch you . . . other places too. The metal is just about everywhere."

"I don't think I'm really in any position to object."

"Aang?"

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Yeah?"

"I may need to cut you to make a path to get it out."

Aang sighed. "I promise you, it won't be the first or the last time someone cuts me. Katara said to wait to try this when the two of you can work together."

"I knew she would say that, but I want to feel where the metal is so I can figure out how to get it out. I promise, if I need help, I'll get her."

Aang sighed again in resignation. He'd spent most of his life negotiating between his wife's temper and his friend's—there was no point arguing with either of them. He had to trust Toph to know what she was doing.

Toph laid small warm hands over his heart, and he shuddered as her touch seemed to sear into him. After a few minutes, she drew one hand up so that just her fingertips rested on his breastbone before she twisted her wrist and slammed the heel of her hand back down over his heart. Aang grunted at the painful blow that sent a shockwave through his body.

It felt as if millions of tiny hooks had suddenly embedded themselves throughout his flesh. Toph drew her hand back slowly, and the pressure from the hooks increased. Aang felt sharp, bursting sensations throughout his body, like glass beads crushed under the heel of a boot. Still, Toph drew her hand back, slowly, and the pain grew to a roaring crescendo, and now ribbons tore through his flesh as the blood rushed in his ears and the floor beneath him seemed to sway and buck like the deck of a ship during a monsoon. Aang's lungs felt as though they were being squeezed, and he panted at first, but soon choked, unable to breathe.

Toph could feel the elusive liquid metal—it flowed within Aang's veins and was settling into his tissues, not just muscles, but vital organs as well. The more droplets she siphoned together, pulling them bit by bit from throughout his body, the more she realized just how deep and thorough the damage was. Toph feared that if she was unsuccessful in pulling the metal out, Aang may not survive until first light. Aang's body was stretched like a bowstring beneath her fingers, and she could feel him struggling for breath. She wasn't going to be able to pull it all out at once. If she did, the internal damage would be so severe that he would bleed to death within minutes. She knew she had already caused significant damage, just with the probing. Toph sighed in frustration and released her hold on the metal.

Aang groaned in relief when the iron grip on his lungs was withdrawn. "Did you get it out?" he panted.

"Not even close. If I draw it all out at once without healing you as we go, the metal will shred you from the inside out. You'll die in hours if I don't get it out, but if I tear it all out now? You'll die in minutes. Katara must have already realized that was the case. _Damn_. I _hate_ it when she's right."

Toph's heels thumped as she strode back to his apartment. In the quiet, he could hear the crickets chirping through the buzzing in his ears, and the darkness took on a floating, surreal quality, in which his mind was becoming detached from the sizzling pain in his flesh. He drifted off to sleep for a moment, and the darkness dissolved into a field of stars, warm sand cradling his bruised flesh, and Katara's body pressed against his. A stitch had formed in his side as he panted to try to catch his breath—but it eased as the tide swept up, covering his feet. The warmth of the water was filling his lungs, and the pain was ebbing away . . .

"Aang?" He could hear her voice as though from a long way off. "Aang! We're losing him!"

Toph murmered back, "Not yet—he just drifted off. Get the syrup into him." She turned away to busy herself with a stack of linen strips in a basket.

The sun blazed suddenly and he turned his face away as it stung his eyes. Aang surfaced from his reverie long enough to ask, "Where's Bumi?"

Katara shook her hand, extinguishing the match she had used to light the lamp. "Mai took him. Some fool Earth Bender woke up this entire wing of the palace. By now, he's probably fast asleep between Zuko and Mai."

Aang huffed shallowly with relief, his body now shivering violently and his teeth chattering. Aside from in his or Katara's arms, there was no place safer for Bumi to be than right next to Zuko. He knew Zuko would give his life to protect any of them, willingly.

Katara's eyes travelled over Aang's body with growing alarm that cut through her own exhaustion. "What have you done?"

"He was already like this for the most part." Toph quickly explained the extent of the damage and how the metal had infiltrated deep into Aang's body. "We are going to have to go inch by inch through his entire body. You will have to heal him as I draw out the metal, and when we are done, we should take care of Zuko and Izumi as soon as possible."

Katara drew a small glass vial sealed with wax from her pocket. She held the delicate glass gingerly between her index finger and thumb. Aang saw the fluid roll sluggishly as she swirled it. "What's that?"

Katara bit her lip uncertainly. "Zuko wants you to drink this. It's made from the inside of blood poppies, and he said it would make you sleep and take away pain."

Aang blinked. "I don't need it."

Katara placed a hand on the clammy skin of his thin chest and leaned close. "What we need to do to you . . . it's going to be agony. Neither Toph or I will be able to get through this if you are screaming. We're going to have to rip that metal out of you drop by drop . . ." Katara leaned back on her heels. Her face had crumpled, and her bottom lip trembled.

Aang regarded her with skepticism, "I'd rather use the sky incense."

"Not this time . . ." Katara's eyes filled with tears and a tear slipped down her cheek before she could wipe it away. "We can't take the risk of your soul leaving your body . . . I'm afraid you'll never come back to me."

At this, Toph whipped around and snatched the vial from Katara's hand, ripping the wax seal from the top of the vial. She propped herself up with a hand on either side of Aang's head and hissed at him, her nose pressed to his, brows drown down in fury. "You listen to me, you stubborn little snit. You're going to drink it if I have to sit on your chest and force it down your throat. We aren't discussing this and don't you dare consider leaving us for the Spirit World. I'm not asking you—I'm _telling_ you. Drink it and drink it _now!_ "

Aang looked uneasily between them and took the proffered vial from Toph when she sat back. Toph crossed her arms when he accepted it in a shaking hand.

Katara wrapped her hands around his to guide the vial to his lips. "I know you don't want to—drink it for me love."

Aang sighed and tipped the noxious fluid into his mouth. He gagged at its cloying sweetness as the sticky, gritty syrup coated his tongue and teeth before it crawled grudgingly down his throat. He grimaced. "That's disgusting—what did you say it was?"

Katara answered, "Zuko called it poppy syrup. After the Agni Kai with his father, Zuko was almost driven mad with the pain. When he was awake, it was as though his entire head was wrapped in flame—both eyes had swollen shut, and Iroh had to pry the burned eye open several times a day so that as it healed, it wouldn't seal itself shut. His entire world for weeks was darkness and pain, fear and humiliation. He didn't sleep for several days, and he eventually began to hallucinate. In desperation, Iroh drugged Zuko with poppy syrup in tea to make him sleep. Zuko slept for nearly a week while Iroh travelled under cover of night to find a Water Tribe healer in the Order of the White Lotus who would consent to healing his nephew. Zuko nearly died of infection several times over those early months, and he would certainly have perished without Iroh's love and care."

"Is that why he never sweetens his tea?" Aang asked sleepily.

Katara's voice continued through the soft fog that was wrapping around him, and he closed his eyes. "Mmm hmm. He says it took years for him to be able to distinguish between the flavor of the poppy syrup in his tea and honey—just the taste brings back the memories.

"Zuko said the poppy syrup produces powerful dreams. By the time he finally woke, he thought he had been battling Ozai for days—it's all he dreamt of." Katara smiled sadly and blotted the sweat from her husband's face with a linen towel. "Mai says Zuko still sometimes wakes screaming—sometimes Ozai is killing him . . . other nights he dreams that he must watch Ozai kill you."

"Good job, Katara—now that's all Aang will dream of too."

Katara turned to look at her friend and smiled wistfully. "No, he won't. Zuko is still afraid deep inside that his father was right—that he isn't strong enough to protect his family and lead his nation, that he isn't worthy. Even with his honor restored, Zuko will battle Ozai's cruelty until the day he goes to the spirits.

"Aang is at peace with his ordeal with Ozai." She planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. "He has never been afraid of dying himself—he has died and risen hundreds of times and will continue to die and rise for all of time. His nightmares have been always about failing to save _us_. This time, we need to save him."


End file.
